


Reason to Keep my Heart Beating

by TORUKAisJUSTICE



Series: [CURRENTLY LOOKING FOR A SERIES TITLE] [1]
Category: ONE OK ROCK
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Headcanon, I really want them to act how (I imagine them) they did when they were in high school, M/M, OOC-ness, Persistent Toru, SUPER SLOW BUILD, Slice of Life, Slow Build, They're cute, eventual TORUKA, my tagging skills sucks, shy Ryota, withdrawn Taka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:17:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 144,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TORUKAisJUSTICE/pseuds/TORUKAisJUSTICE
Summary: [COMPLETED]“What are you doing here anyways?”The younger innocently tilted his head, but still with this scary and stoic expression on his face, “Uh…watching your perfor—,”“No! Not that, idiot!” Taka gritted his teeth, “I mean what you are doing in this alley? Are you stalking me?” he said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Maybe, Toru-san really is a yakuza, and is only befriending him because he wants his internal organs or something.“What?! No!” Toru-san shook his head in denial, “I just thought you’re gonna avoid me and the most probable exit you’ll use is this back door so I went here!” he hastily explained.Then you really are stalking me!“That’s called stalking, Toru-san…” he bitterly said.Toru blinked, “Oh.”Or how I imagine the formation of ONE OK ROCK which focuses on the emotional side of the members—especially Taka and Toru.RussianSpanish





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Yoh!
> 
> This fic is loosely-based on the real lives and events of the ONE OK ROCK band. I just modified some events so it can easily fit my story hahaha. Anyways, you can probably easily identify what are the facts and what are the fictional parts of this fic. This will surely contain a shit-ton of grammatical errors, loop-holes and a lot of OOC-ness that will probably make you cringe in disgust. I apologize for the mistakes. Rated M for Taka and Toru's filthy mouths.
> 
> Chapter 1 is more of a prelude to the actual story. Please bear with it.
> 
> Feel free to make a comment and suggestion. Thank you in advance for those who will do so.
> 
> Disclaimer: Nope. Still not mine.

 

Toru groaned for the _god-knows-how-many-times_ already that day. He had just undergone a vocal cord surgery for using his voice too much. Apparently, one can actually scream _too much_ that you’ll need a minor surgery the next day because you woke up with an overwhelming and crippling pain down into your throat.

And Toru learned that, in a rather _painful_ way.

_You know, the kind of “somebody-shoved-a-shit-ton-of-nails-and-rocks-and-everything-sharp-and-rough-down-your-throat” feeling?_

That’s how he felt waking up about two days ago.

They had a practice the day before that horrific incident, which should be really filed as the _“throat-wrenching-attempts-to-be-the-damn-vocalist”_ for future reference, when Ryota—Kohama Ryota— the ever _genius_ and youngest member of the band insisted that they should do a little contest to know who should be the vocalist of their just newly formed band.

 

 

_I really should’ve known better._

Look where did that silly suggestion brought Toru.

Bedridden, wearing a flimsy hospital gown and feeling high as fuck because of the loads of anaesthesia still pumping through his veins.

Now that he’s thinking about it, he probably should confront his younger friend—and by “confront” he means a _good beating_ with a ton of _friendly_ slaps and punches on Ryota’s stupid face.

_Ah...that’ll definitely be good..._

He sighed, looking down on his phone. The screen’s light is harsh on his heavily-lidded eyes, although it’s already on its lowest brightness setting; but he ignored it, focusing on the picture he’s currently staring at.

It was a photo of their band. Even though it’s taken by a mere 2 mega pixel camera, Toru can easily say that they look like an _absolute mess_. Ryota is too close to the camera— _Alex’s senpai’s phone camera_ — sticking out his tongue like a _shy_ junkie; Yu is posing as if he’s on a magazine cover while Alex-senpai is just grinning like a perverted fool, effortlessly displaying his _bishounen_ features.

Toru, on the other hand, was on the farthest corner. He was almost left out of the picture if not for Alex-senpai who dragged him through the hem of his overly-sized shirt.

_Damn._

He looked mortified and nervous and uncomfortable—all at the same time. He even looked like a constipated _dinosaur_ , damn it. Eh, maybe he’s not really for cameras?

When their band got famous, he’ll never do interviews nor pose for photos.

_It’s decided._

Satisfied with his own thoughts, he nodded to himself before locking his phone. He was about to lie again and fall back into rest, thinking that the faster he recovers, the faster he can join the band practice again—when the door burst OPEN—

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

—is what he would say if he can actually talk, but since he’s practically mute at the moment, he opted for—

“Guh-gah-ugh—?!”

Ryota.

Of- _fucking_ -course! It would be Ryota who burst into the room— _unannounced and without even knocking_ —holding a somewhat new bass guitar, and is madly grinning at him.

If Toru have a voice, the first thing he will ask is:

“Are you fucking high or what—visitation hours is over—you—?!”

But since, _again_ , he’s totally mute, he merely stared at his friend. His droopy eyes looking at Ryota, silently asking him on _WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE YOU_ —

“Look, Toru-nii!” Toru had to lean backwards as Ryota practically _shoved_ the bass on his face—narrowly missing his eyes—, “I’ve got a new guitar! Look!”

_How would I look at this when you’re flinging it directly to my face you idiot?!_

He weakly grunted and pushed the guitar away before taking a good look at it. It certainly looked like it’s brand new. The brand is also a good one, buts still not better than the one he owned—which was the one Ryota’s using until the other day.

Ryota doesn’t really have any interest on playing bass—his expertise lies on flipping his smaller body into the air, tumbling and dancing along hip-hop music—so when Toru woke him up and told him that he wanted to form a band, just weeks ago, Ryota stared at him as if he grew _another set of limbs_.

In the end, the naive and somewhat _mentally uncomfortable_ Ryota still agreed to join him.

Anyway, Ryota had never seen a bass before, so Toru lent him his own bass guitar. He have two—a Les Paul Standard Black and an older bass guitar. He was actually more than happy to bribe— ** _help_** —his friend find his passion for playing the bass. Ryota recently listened to an album of Red Hot Chilli Peppers which, according to him, “ _kindle my hidden desire for playing the music_ ” or something.

Toru was actually more amazed on his friend’s improving vocabulary but he just kept that to himself.

He touched the neck of the guitar, smooth and long, shining even under the faint room lights.

_Ah...urayamashii na..._

He also want to have a new guitar. That would be nice, yeah? But he won’t probably be able to buy one since he’s still in his second year in high school.

Which also lead to the question...

_How did you afford to buy this?_

He looked up at Ryota, who’s bouncing _animatedly_ on his feet—much like a hyperactive child who’s not allowed to move from his spot or something— and raised his brows in question.

_I just hope that he’s smart enough to know what I’m asking..._

Ryota, on the other hand, perked up when he noticed that the older is looking at him. “Isn’t it cool? When your mom told me that you’ve been hospitalized, I immediately rushed here—!”

Toru frowned, more— _if that’s even possible_ — because he can’t remember seeing Ryota here yesterday. However, considering that he’s _writhing_ in pain that time, he really can’t tell if he’s friend actually came or not—

“—but then I saw this shop and totally forgot going here—“

_I fucking knew it! I can’t remember it because he didn’t really come to see me, at all!_

“—and they’re selling awesome stuffs!” Ryota continued babbling like a fool, oblivious to the imaginary grey cloud swirling over Toru’s head, “Then I saw this bass and decided that I’ll have this because it’s so fucking awesome! But I don’t really have any money on me so I went back home and asked Mom to buy it for me!” he grinned sheepishly.

Toru shook his head in disbelief through he can’t help himself as a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

_Your mom’s too soft on you, idiot!_

He gave the guitar back to Ryota who stared at it with childish awe, “You know, she asked me if this is what I really want...” Ryota smiled— _no, not his usual shit-eating grin_ —but a soft, small and genuine smile which made the boy look even younger, “And I said yes. I want this bass guitar, I want to play, I want to create more music with you guys,” Ryota suddenly turned to look directly at him, “so you should hurry up and get better, Toru-nii. We’re all waiting for you— _minna_ is!” he then put on the strap of the guitar on his shoulder before dashing to the door.

“ _Sore ja_ , see you soon! Gotta get back to the dorms!”

And just like that, Ryota left as quickly as he arrived just moments ago.

...

...

Toru blinked.

Did...

Did _Ryota_ just cheered him up..?

…

Before he knew it, a somewhat amazed smile formed on his lips. His band mates— _his friends_ —are really _something_. They probably aren’t the brightest crayola’s in the pack— _especially Ryota_ —but they’re the most real, most sincere and awesome people he’d ever met.

He flipped his phone open and stared at their picture. He immediately put on straight face as he noticed his grinning face on the screen’s reflection.

He’s lucky to meet those people…

And now…

_Mou hitotsu dake…_

He just have to find the last one. He hopefully stared on the window beside his bed, the soft golden glow of the setting sun filtering through the paper-thin curtains and landing on the blanket pooling around his lap.

_Just another one..._

 

 

* * *

 

 

“A- _achoo_!”

“Bless you,” one of their female customers giggled. Takahiro blinked and sniffled before putting their orders down on the table. He really can’t stand the attention he’s getting from girls these days. He just want to rush back to the kitchen and wash the dishes— _singing to himself_ —than serving strangers who always gave him odd and sometimes _flirtatious_ looks.

He inwardly shuddered at that.

He glanced at the girls and noticed that they’re still giggling while blushing—how they can do that simultaneously is simply _way beyond_ his understanding. He mumbled a soft thanks, his curly locks bouncing as he bowed. He was about to flee from these girls’ clutches when they suddenly gave him a volley of questions.

“How old are you?”

“Do you want to come home with _nee-chan_?”

“What’s your size?” then she giggled with a high-pitched voice that Taka can only compare to a pig’s screeching.

_I’m a damn waiter not an answering machine!_

“ _Ne, ne_ ,” the girl with the pretty _(or weird?_ ) hair grabbed his thin wrist, “I think I’ve seen you before? Have you been in _terebi_?” she asked, her perfectly arched brows scrunched up in confusion.

Taka instantly paled at that. She knows!

_She fuckin knows—oh my god— she—_

Calm down. _Yeah_. He needs to calm down.

_Yeah, Takahiro calm your shits down._

_You wouldn’t want to lose this job again, do you?_

_Right._

He took a deep, calming breath.

_Damn right._

Taka muster all his strength, putting up a smile so forces his lips instantly ached.

“ _Muri, muri_!” he laughingly said, gently prying the girl’s grasp from his bony wrist, “It’s just probably your imagination! Anyway,” he immediately said when one of the girls opened her mouth to say something, “Do you have any more to order or...? The kitchen is currently understaffed so I’d better get my ass over there,” he said, a charming smile gracing his full lips as he nervously glanced at the door leading to the restaurant’s kitchen.

The girls pouted for a moment, clearly dissatisfied with his excuse.

“No, it’s fine,” one girl said before smiling, _sickly sweet_ , up at him, “But can you be the one to collect our bill later? We’ll give you a handsome tip _, cutie_ ~!”

Taka smiled politely at that before finally— _fucking finally_ —excused, himself, deciding that he won’t serve those creepy girls again, _EVER_.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takahiro coughed a few times before sniffling. He put on his face mask to retain as much moisture as he can. Winter in Tokyo isn’t generally that bad, but the weather man said that it’ll be much colder this year. In fact, Taka could already feel that. He really should have increase his layer of clothing f he want to survive without getting a cold or worse— a _sore throat_.

“You should take medicine,” he looked up to see his band mate, the guitarist to be exact, who is much taller— _to his annoyance_ — than him, “before that get worse.”

“I already know that,” Taka gruffly said, putting his freezing hands in the pocket of his faded jeans, “Thank you, anyways.”

They stood there in silence, watching as their drummer and keyboardist buy their food inside the _kombini_. Taka’s body is sensitive to the sudden change in temperature so he chose to stay outside and wait for them to buy stuffs or _whatever the fuck_ they’re doing there for almost 10 minutes now.

“How’s school by the way?” the guitarist casually asked as if he’s desperately trying to maintain a good conversation, “You’re in what? Junior High school?”

Taka shot the older a nasty and overly-pissed off look.

One of the things he hated about people is when they’re pretending to be interested in him when they’re obviously _not_.

Taka clenched his teeth and glanced at the busy road across them, “Senior actually. Despite _popular belief_ , I’m already at my 3rd year in high school,” he scowled when the older snorted, “I still suck in studies, though. The math and physics shits are killing my brain cells every damn time.”

“You really should get serious about school,” the older said, shaking his box of cigarettes to get one out.

“What for? It’s not like I’m gonna use _algebra_ and those _vector-distance-thingies_ while singing, right?”

The man gave him an unamused look, which infuriated him, before glancing away to light his cancer-stick. He blow smoke after smoke before looking back down at Taka, “Our gigs won’t last forever, you know?”

Taka scoffed, thanking the thousands of gods above, when the two finally emerged from the convenience store, “ _Shitteru_.”

He knows.

_I know._

 

 


	2. Naihi Shinsho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"Actually, I want to speak these words in a loud voice, so  
>  ___  
>  _I wish somebody knew,so it's painful by myself" ___
> 
> ___ _
> 
> ___Disclaimer: Nah. Still not mine._ _ _

 

Toru nodded his head in approval as the music concludes, the static screeching loudly—grating pleasantly on his eardrums— before slowly dissipating. He opened his eyes, blinking away the beads of sweat that rolled down from his damp hair.

He relished at the reverberations of their raw music. Adrenaline from playing non-stop for hours pumped through his veins, giving his head a little buzzing feeling. He decided that he can stay like that for hours and days and even _weeks_ , waiting as the rush from creating music recedes completely from his system.

“Ah, that’s a good one!”

And just like that, the calm, almost-sacred atmosphere in the garage where they’re currently practicing was broken. Leave it to Ryota to fucking _ruin_ that awesome ambiance.

“You’re getting better with the bass, Ryo-chan,” Alex-senpai said, pulling the guitar strap off his shoulder before grabbing his bottled water. Ryota instantly went stiff, which made Yu snicker from his drum set. It was common knowledge that despite Ryota’s seemingly outgoing attitude and endless energy, he’s actually a shy boy who would rather ignore some stranger rather than engaging in a friendly conversation.

_Well, I’m not really that different from him in that aspect..._

“Ah! You’re making our _kouhai_ blush, Alex- _senpai_!” Yu said, his attempts on holding his laughter failing epically.

“S-shut up! I’m not blushing!” Ryota snapped, his cheeks burning with vivid scarlet— _totally blushing_ to the tips of his ears, “And it’s because of Toru-nii!” he suddenly pointed towards the rhythm guitarist who stared back in confusion.

“ _Ore da?_ What, do _I_ make you blush, Ryo-chan?” he smirked. Yu automatically howled in laughter.

“N-no! It’s just that you’re the one who taught all those things to me—even how to hold a guitar properly, so— so Alex- _senpai_ should praise you, not me— _MOU_! Stop laughing, you assholes!” he screamed in indignation before attacking Yu and kicking Alex- _senpai_ on the shin.

Meanwhile, Toru is...

...clearly taken aback at that sudden declaration.

He didn’t know that Ryota was _capable_ of being grateful. Well, _I’m not even aware that he can pull of such tear-jerking speech anyway so..._

“Yeah,” Yu said, ignoring how Alex- _senpai_ ruffled the youngest’s messy hair, “Leader _-sama_ is so great! Have you heard his guitar solo? It was _super_ crazy!”

Toru scowled, “don’t call me Leader- _sama, aho_!”

“Why not?” Alex-senpai said, finally letting go of a rumpled and completely humiliated Ryota, “You’re the one who brought us together, remember?”

Toru made an “ _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ ” face.

“Aaaaaaand,” Yu drawled, exchanging a meaningful look with Alex- _senpai_ —

_Oh shit, they’re definitely planning something—_

“—since _you’re_ our Leader, you should also be the looking for our vocalist, _nee_ Leader- _sama?_ ”

_I fucking knew it!_

He gulped at that. These two, _seriously_. Sometimes, Toru can’t tell if they’re genuinely concerned with the future of their _nameless_ little band.

“Aren’t you just calling me the leader so that you can push all the responsibilities to me?” he asked, making the two grin like _hyenas_. Or wolves. Or foxes.

Or _whatever_ , _really._

“ _Masaka_!” Alex-senpai flashed him his _toothpaste commercial-worthy_ smile, “It’s just you’re the founder so you should be the one calling the shots when it comes to our future vocalist.”

“Besides,” Yu supplied eagerly, “You’re already well and kicking. It’s been _what_ , 4 weeks since your surgery?” the drummer looked around for confirmation.

“Two weeks,” Ryota said, earning a sharp glare from him.

“See! Then, you’re well enough to go hunting!”

“I don’t really see the logic in that,” Toru rolled his eyes and looked around. Instruments and various snacks littered the area. The tiny room is easily filled with their loud voices, and seems to be always on the verge of imploding whenever they’re practicing.

They can create music, _yes_ —not quite the best but _obviously better_ than the one he heard on TV—but there’s still something— _someone_ —missing.

Someone who can give words to their melodies.

Someone who can lead their strums, their thumps and beats, their rhythms with a strong, powerful—awesome—voice.

Someone who could make their band... _complete_.

He sighed, plopping onto the old, worn-out sofa before dreamily looking up the dusty ceiling.

_Where on earth would I found that kind of vocalist?!_

 

 

Takahiro nervously rubbed his hands together, noticing how the once pale tips are quickly turning red under the December air. The news were right—the winter this year would be harsher and colder which will also be a huge pain in the ass for him and his precious vocal chords.

Singing— _the only thing he’s good at_ —would be next to fucking impossible if he caught a cold or a throat infection; so he made sure to wear his jacket, scarf, face mask, thermal Peruvian hat before leaving his apartment.

_Too bad I fucking forgot to wear gloves._

He sniffled, looking around—searching for his band mates who, _of course_ , were late.

The live house had opened hours ago. The loud music can still be heard even though he’s already outside, showing how upbeat and lively in there. He occasionally enjoyed the loud rock music, a break from the countless soulful ballads he sang, the sharp sounds produced by various instruments coming together as a powerful piece of art—of soul—but, _not tonight_.

He can’t really enjoy himself if he’s _alone_ , right?

Besides, he still looks like an underage teen—much to his dismay—which makes entering the live house, well _, next to impossible_.

He scanned the area again. More and more people are passing by—some crossing the streets; others are striding on the curb, hurrying, as if they’re chasing after time itself.

Tonight would be their band’s first live.

It’s nothing big, _really_. Taka had performed in front of a bigger crowd—but it still makes him nervous as fuck. He previously didn’t love singing cover songs, heck he can’t even imagine himself singing foreign songs a year ago and yet—

_Look at where I am now..._

He huffed, flipping his phone open. He texted a lot of people, not quite friends _per se_ , but more of acquaintances, to come tonight. He doesn’t really like the crowds these days but for the sake of promoting their band, he guesses that one or more people would be better.

There are still no messages from those _fuckers_.

_Don’t tell me that they’re gonna ditch me—_

He looked up when he heard the familiar voice of their guitarist—only to see a group of boys around his age walking towards the entrance of the live house. He unfortunately met the _bored_ and _unblinking_ eyes of the tallest one.

Shit!

_Yankee-kun!_

He immediately averted his gaze, relief flooding his entire system as he saw the familiar silhouettes of his band mates.

Fucking finally!

 

 

 

“Don’t be so tensed, Yamashita- _san_. No one’s gonna eat you here,” Toru stopped frantically glancing around when his friend spoke. He smiled tightly at his friend but he still has this feeling that something bad will happen tonight.

_Maybe I should just go home? Or I should’ve brought at least Ryota with me..._

He nervously looked at the band members who are setting up their instruments on the raised platform. It was the band’s first live, or so Shinji said earlier.

He’s not really close with Shinji—he doesn’t have that many friends in the first place—

 _In fact, I can count them with the fingers of my one hand_ , he solemnly thought.

—but they share the same interest in music. When Shinji messaged him yesterday, asking him to come into a certain band’s debut live, he was reluctant to do so. Heck, he didn’t even know the band’s name— _wait, what was it again_ —

— _Memory of Music?_

— _Knights of Music?_

— _Chivalrous Music?_

Whatever.

—but when he realized that the live house would probably be filled with music enthusiasts, he was _more than eager_ to jump to the nearest train after his classes. He can still remembered when he apologized to the band for not being able to come to practice today. He can easily see that Alex- _senpai_ and Yu were eager to push him out of the school gates.

 _“Good luck with your quest leader-sama!”_ they said.

Ryota looked nervous about something—probably of going back to their dorm alone for the first time, rather than Toru’s “ _adventure_ ” tonight.

...

Toru snorted at that.

What an _adventure._..

All he could see are young adults, girls who wear too much make up and some black-wearing men. The air stinks of alcohol and various perfumes, and though it’s warmer inside, Toru would still prefer the cold, bitter December air outside.

The screeching sound of static pulled him out of his stupor. He looked up to see the band—the vocalist staring directly— _to the floor._

...

Toru’s brows rose in confusion.

Is he really the _vocalist_?

He can’t really remember but the man— _boy_ — _child?_ —looks familiar to him. Well he can’t really say for sure since the boy’s dark chocolate curls cover half of his damn face.

_Where have I seen him before..?_

While the guitarist is busy introducing their band— _Chivalry of Music or something_ —Toru is busy scrutinizing the vocalist. He’s short, too short to be in his 20’s. His shoulders are too tensed, as if he’s afraid that someone would suddenly pounce on him. And while he wears a checkered button-up shirt, Toru can still see that his fingertips are burning red from the cold.

He blinked.

“Oh!” he muttered, finally remembering the kid as the one standing outside just minutes ago.

Their eyes even met for a moment before the boy frantically averted his, as if he just saw an approaching yakuza or something.

He...

“He really is the vocalist?” he asked, making Shinji turned to him.

“Huh? Yeah. He just look like a _confused, lost_ kid but his voice is so awesome!” he grinned before turning his attention back to the stage. The lights suddenly dimmed, a sole spotlight pointing towards the vocalist as the bass hit the chords of what Toru can recognize as Maroon’s 5 She Will be Loved.

_A cover band huh..._

The vocalist gulped a numerous times before grasping the microphone on the stand and sand—

_“Beauty queen of only eighteen_

_She had some troubles with herself”_

Toru’s heavily –lidded eyes shot wide upon hearing the vocalist’s singing voice. He can properly hear the English words—with the exemption of “L’s” rolling out as “R’s”—which is a rare feat among Japanese singers.

While the male singers in their areas can only sing low notes, this vocalist can surely hit the higher ones.

_“I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your doo-oh-or_

_I’ve had you so many times but somehow I want mo-oh-ore”_

He’s Japanese.

He’s Japanese, _right?_

_“I don’t mind spending every day,_

_Out on your corner in the pouring rain._

_Look for the girl with the broken smile_

_Ask her if she wants to stay a while_

_And she will be loved”_

The crows whistled and cheered in awe, as the boy hit the higher notes without even looking away from the floor.

_“She will be loved...”_

Toru stared at the mop of curly hair in daze as the kid sang all of their prepared songs. He’s never been mesmerized with someone’s voice ( _since Rize or Avril Lavigne’s_ ) as with this one’s.

His voice is so strange—so _powerful_ , so _soulful_ , so _full of passion_ which varies on the songs he sings.

His voice is _raspy yet clean_ —pure as an angel; manly _yet so soft and so sweet_. It’s very unique that the kid could be lost in a sea of people yet Toru can still identify his voice.

As the band’s last song concluded, Toru leaned back on his chair. His heart madly beating as adrenaline pumped through his veins.

He is the _one_.

He glanced at the vocalist, who didn’t even bother to look at the crowd after a superb performance, before the lights went out and the cheers burst into the live house.

He is the _ONLY_ one.

_I can’t miss him!_

 

 


	3. Koukai Yaku Ni Tatazu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was against my will, but you were the one who made me feel that I needed to take a journey wasn't it?"
> 
> Or what we know as the stalking game.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: No, no. Just in my wildest dreams.

Taka crumpled his exam papers before throwing them to the _conveniently_ near trash bin. Graduation is coming, and just like any students at his age, he set out to take entrance exams and applied for college.

Except that he really doesn’t want to study anymore.

_Oh, and let’s not_ forget the fact that he just flunked all of his entrance exams _magnificently_.

_I’m not even sure if one can fail this much but yeah, I’m probably the unluckiest person on earth right now!_

He sighed, watching as puffs of air materialized in the cold air. He really should go home, or to his part-time job but he can’t find the strength to even get up from the rusty swing he’s currently sitting on.

He really should take things seriously now. It’s future that’s on the line here.

He needs to get a stable job.

He needs to have a college degree for that.

He needs to _pass_ the entrance exam to go into college.

Entrance exams—

“ _Mou!!!_ ” he screamed in frustration as he clutched his awfully styled hair. He’s aware that screaming his guts out won’t bring anything—well, aside from a sore throat—but letting out the steam from his system is still somewhat helpful. If he’s only allowed to choose, he’ll just sing and sleep and listen to music for the rest of his life.

He looked up at the grey skies; the snow will probably fall any moment from now. All will be enveloped with white—roofs, cars, trees, and roads.

_Ii na..._

He sighed. Singing would be good. That’s the only thing he’s good at anyway. He just wish that he can do it _forever and ever and ever_ —

Speaking of _singing_ —

“ _Uwah_!” he yelped as he lost his balance, toppling on the grass as he remembered their first live event, “T-that hurts!”

He groaned and awkwardly went back on the swing, ignoring the giggles of the children playing nearby. He wants to flip them off but then he realized that they might get traumatized so he just opt for smiling _widely_ at them. Too widely, actually.

_I’m gonna push you on that freezing pond you brats!_

Them, he scowled.

Their first live has been alright. Well, probably more than alright since they’ve been asked to do another live— _when was it again_ —ah, tomorrow. The crowds are cheering and applauding at them that night and that feels...

Nice...

_It feels nice... I guess?_

Well, except for the _Yankee-kun_ , his friend Shinji has brought over. He still shudders just by remembering the taller man’s face.

He really should’ve, just went straight home after their performance— _but NO_ —damn Shinji has other plans for him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Why would I want to meet your friend?” Taka bluntly replied on Shinji’s request. His friend, Shinji just burst into the backstage, _not even giving him the privacy to change his clothes_ , to ask him if he could meet Shinji’s friends or something.

“Don’t be like that, Morita- _kun_!” Shinji said, “He even came here from the other side of Tokyo just to watch you perform!”

Taka’s brows rose at that.

He’s absolutely sure that Shinji is spouting lies but since Shinji bothered to invite other people to come over, he guess that he kinda need to return the favor?

_But I’ve got exams tomorrow..._

He glanced at his wristwatch. It’s just past midnight, and if Shinji is telling the truth, then he’d better get this shit over. He sighed, “Fine. Just let me change my clothes, okay? I’ll meet you outside.”

Shinji pumped his fist in victory, “ _Yatta!_ You’ve gotta see him, Morita- _kun_! He’s just _dying_ to meet you!”

 

“ _A-re, a-re..._ ” Taka swallowed hard, his eyes darting everywhere except on the man seating across him. When Shinji told him that someone’s _dying_ to meet him, he thought that it would be a _young_ , fan boy-type, not this—

This...

Motherfucking _HUGE YANKEE-KUN!_

It’s the same man from before! The one with eyes that could probably kill you just by _staring directly at it_! The _yakuza_ earlier!

_Holy fuck. I think, I’m the one who’s gonna be dying here._

He subtly threw a sharp glare towards Shinji who practically left him to fend for himself against this tall man.

_Don’t tell me that Shinji’s planning to sell me to some Yakuza or some black market?!_

He panicked.

Just by being around this guy s already _nerve-wrecking experience_.

Being stared at—head on—by this guy is a _downright scary_ experience.

The man—young adult— _NO, he’s definitely on his late 20’s_ — _j-just look at those eye bags!_ —is just staring down at him. Taka knew that the guy is thinking of something— _probably on how he would dispose my dismembered body on Tokyo Bay_ —and he’s somewhat thankful, for once, that his mess of hair is covering half of his face.

He gulped again, “ _A-ano—_ ,”

“Ah!” Taka flinched when the man snapped out of his own world, “It’s so rude of me...” a deep, baritone voice filled Taka’s ears as the man extended his sleeve-covered arm, “I’m Yamashita Toru, and I’m also in a band,” he said.

Taka isn’t sure if he’ll shake hands with this intimidating stranger—but the fact that he’s also in a band made him somehow interested. He hesitantly accepted the much larger hand that immediately gripped his tightly.

“I-I’m Morita. Morita Takahiro,” he said, looking on his worn-out converse shoes, afraid to meet the taller man’s gaze. The stranger—Yamashita-san—let go of his hand before speaking again, “ _Soooo_ ,” he drawled, “Congratulations on that wonderful performance. You really did well earlier...”

Taka blinked at that.

He doesn’t really know how to respond on that. Normally, people would just go back to their business after hearing their performance. No one actually bothered to talk to him and praise him for his skills.

And yet this intimidating _Yankee-kun_...

He can feel the heat, flushing up his cheeks as he dared to look up at the man’s face, “T-thanks... though it was a collective effort of the band...”

The man nodded in approval, “You really have an amazing voice huh...”

Taka can hear a faint Kansai accent on the man’s deep voice but that’s not what bothered him.

“P-pardon?”

“Do you enjoy performing on stage?”

_Huh?_

He tilted his head in confusion, the tassels of his Peruvian hat gently swinging with his motions. What’s with that question? It’s kind of insulting. This man just praised him seconds ago and now he’s asking if he did enjoy performing?!

What an _absurd_ question!

“Of course,” he said, his temper slowly getting the better off him, “I wouldn’t be singing on that stage if I wasn’t enjoying it in the first place!” he said through clenched teeth. The man looked quite taken aback for a moment, probably because of the sudden change on his attitude, before a serious look formed on his already-straight face.

“Then why are you singing with your head _down?_ ”

...

...

“I—!” Taka wanted to retaliate, but nothing came into his mind. It wasn’t an accusation, but merely an observation of his habits while on stage. He hated it—the feeling of shame whenever he’s singing—the fear that people might recognize him and his family background.

No one had noticed it, no one had asked about it.

_No one._

No one—until this Yamashita Toru.

_How... is that because he’s also in a band?_

Taka opened his mouth, planning to say something, the closes it again—repeating it for a full minute like a _gaping fish_ out of the water.

“Let me rephrase that,” Yamashita-san’s voice pulled him out of his stupor, “Do you enjoy performing with your band?”

_That’s it!_

Taka suddenly stood up, startling Yamashita-san, before glaring down at him.

“Whether I enjoy it or not, _that’s not your fucking business anymore_ ,” he sternly said—however, Yamashita-san’s determined expression didn’t even falter.

“If you’ll ask me, I’d say that you don’t enjoy it at all—,”

“Well, _no one’s asking_ you—,”

“—so join our band—,”

“—so just stop— _wait what_? WHAT?” he halted his heated retort when the man casually dropped that statement.

_He—he’s asking me to join his band?_

He gave Yamashita-san an “ _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ ” kind of look.

Yamashita-san answered him with a stare, those creepy eyes not even blinking as if telling “ _do-i-look-like-I’m-kidding-you-midget_ ” to Taka. “I’m currently looking for a vocalist about my age—,”

— _about your age?! How young are you, you_ —

“—and when I heard you earlier, I thought that you’ll be _perfect_ for that spot!”

...

If...

If Taka isn’t already riled up and _totally_ pissed off at the moment, he’ll probably blush like a high school fan girl at the statement—but since this asshole has _already and royally_ pissed him off—he merely gave the man a _dirty finger_.

Yeah.

Right on his emotionless, _frigid_ face.

“I don’t know if you’re stupid or _what_ , but as you’ve seen earlier, I’m already in a band,” he glared up at the man, “Besides, I don’t want to do anything with your nameless and probably sucking band, _aho_!” he spat before marching towards the exit, leaving a clueless Shinji and a rather amused Yamashita Toru.

* * *

 

“I _really_ should’ve just go home after the performance,” Taka sighed, “I could’ve probably  passed the exams if I spend my time studying rather than interacting with that _Yankee_ -kun...”

He smiled bitterly before stretching his legs.

_I just hope that I won’t have to see him again... **ever.**_

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Ack_!”

Takahiro almost fall right on his face upon seeing a familiar— _frighteningly familiar_ —face in the hall for their second live performance.

“Are you alright?” the guitarist asked. He probably saw him tripping on nothing.

“ _Hai, hai_. _Mochiro ‘n desu!_ ” he chuckled nervously, making sure to not meet the _Yankee-kun_ ’s gaze, “Just peachy.”

The guitarist looked quite unconvinced but didn’t asked further, “whatever you say _kiddo_ ,” he shrugged. Taka nodded.

_It’s just my imagination right?_

He walked forward to where the mic stand is, mentally cursing all the _kami_ he knows for giving him this _horrible_ luck of meeting that Yamashita-san, before glancing at the crowd. His gaze was met with an _emotionless_ , almost _bored-to-death_ eyes staring _directly_ at him.

Taka instantly looked down on the floor boards.

_Oh shit!_

He’s really here again!

_Shit shit fuck fucking FUCK!_

He started singing, and while his voice remained controlled and the same throughout their performance, his mind is already running a mile per second, asking the gods on what had he done wrong to deserve this.

_Is it because of all those shits I’ve done?_

Holy fuck!

_Is failing all my exams still not enough as a punishment?_

_A_ pparently _not_ , since he can feel the other man’s stare in the entire duration of their performance. However, when he looked up, just before the last line of the song ended, the man was already gone from his seat. Taka mentally let out a sigh of relief and decided that he’ll get the fuck out of this place as fast as he can. The moment the lights dimmed, Taka was already rushing down the platform.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Domo_ ,” Taka bumped into a larger body upon rushing though the back door, “Do you still remember me—,”

“HOLY MOTHERFUCKING—Do you want to _scare me to death_ or some—,” Taka’s eyes bulged out of their sockets as he realized who greeted him, “Y-yamashita-san?!”

At that moment, Taka decided that someone _up_ there really, _really_ hated him. It certainly feels like the universe is _constantly trying to fuck up_ his life or someshit.

“ _Hai_ ,” the man brightened up when he practically announced that Taka can still, _indeed_ , remember him, “Though you can call me Toru. Yamashita-san makes me feel kinda old?”

“Well, aren’t you _really_ old?” Taka deadpanned.

“What?” Yama—Toru-san looked quite offended at that, “How old do you think I am?”

“Uh, 28?”

“ _Uso_!”

“ _A-re…_ ” Taka averted his gaze, eyeing the exit from that alley, “Then, _how_ old are you, Toru-san?”

“17! I just turned 17 this month!”

“ _Uso_!”

It was Taka’s turn to have the shock of his life. He took a good look on Toru-san— _from head to toe_ —before gaping at the taller man, “You’re fucking kidding me! You’re _younger_ than me? No fucking way!”

Toru-san’s brows rose in disbelief, “You’re older than me? But Shinji-san said that we’re at the same age so I thought that you’re maybe…a _first year_?”

“Really? _Wow_ ,” he snorted, “Thanks. I get that a lot,” he adjusted his jacket, glanced at Toru-san and noticed that the other is still in his school uniform. He mistook the black gakuran for a black turtleneck under the club’s strobe lights earlier.

It’s fucking snowing and he travelled here with just his uniform?

“Then,” Toru-san said, “You’re in senior grade? Are you gonna apply for college?” he asked, unconsciously rubbing salt on Taka’s wounded pride. He’s not even moving on with his failures and this man is already reminding him of his stupidity— _albeit unknowingly_.

“That’s none of your business,” Taka snapped, “What are you doing here anyways?”

The younger tilted his head, but still with this scary and stoic expression on his face, “Uh…watching your perfor—,”

“No! Not that, idiot!” Taka gritted his teeth, “I mean, what are you doing in this alley? Are you… stalking me?” he said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Maybe, Toru-san _really_ is a yakuza, and is only befriending him because he want his internal organs or _something_.

“What?! No!” Toru-san shook his head in denial, “I just thought you’re gonna avoid me and the most probable exit you’ll use is this back there so I went here!” he hastily explained.

_Then you really are stalking me!_

“That’s called _stalking_ , Toru-san…” he bitterly said.

Toru blinked, “Oh.”

_Jesus fucking Christ_.

Taka pinched the bridge of his nose. He can feel the foreboding of a huge headache. His life crisis is really getting into him and dealing with this huge, emotionless, _stalking_ prick is the last thing he’d want to do today—tonight—what- _the-fuck_ -ever.

“Look,” he patiently said, making Toru-san perked up, “Life is giving me a ton of shits since yesterday. Just tell me what you want—,”

Toru-san opened his mouth to answer but Taka immediately cut him off by raising his palms.

“—if this is about you recruiting me to your band, I’m sorry. I can’t. And won’t. I’m already in a band, remember?”

Toru-san scowled, his eyebrows furrowing, suddenly giving off a completely dissatisfied aura—as if the heavens suddenly blasted him with _fire and boulder_ , which made Taka to take a few steps backwards. “But you’re clearly not enjoying with them!”

“And I would? If I join your band?” he narrowed his almond-shaped eyes, still partially obscured by his curly locks, “If you really think that my voice is amazing, then aren’t you being too arrogant on recruiting me? Do you think that you’re good _enough_ , that your band is good enough to deserve _me_?”

Taka clamped his mouth shut as he registered the shell-shocked expression on the younger’s face. Toru-san’s brows knitted in hurt as his eyes darkened for a moment.

Taka felt like a monster for saying those cruel words.

Well, he’s already a despicable, pathetic excuse for a decent human being so _what’s new_? He huffed, adjusting his backpack, before stalking towards the exit and through the busy sidewalks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much OOC-ness, my gosh.
> 
> Facts (that I know all of you has already know): (1) Taka didn't finish high school, I think he didn't even made it to high school since he, well, failed the entrance exams. (2) Toru formed their band when he was 16 or 17, but definitely not 18. [UPDATE AS OF 2017.10.27.] I've changed Toru's age from 18 back to 17, in preparation for his real 18th birthday in the later chapters. This update is for all who already have read this chapter and might find Toru's age confusing in the latter part of the story. (3) Shinji is an OC, but Taka and Toru had probably met through a common friend.
> 
> Anyways, I apologize for any mistakes/grammar errors/and other shits. Thanks for reading! Will totally appreciate your comments and suggestions, if there's any. :)


	4. A new one for all, all for the new

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toru's stalking continues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I always think of that moment  
> It will still take time  
> Such, because we are living by a rule book  
> How do I escape these tears of sadness"
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Stil noooooot mine.

 

“You’re gonna go there again, Toru- _nii_?”

Toru continued strumming on his guitar as he keep on reminiscing on the events of last, last night. He didn’t really intended to irk Morita-san but he probably somehow crossed the line back then.

_I wonder if he’s still mad at me?_

Toru sigh. His calloused fingers pressed onto the frets expertly—without missing a chord—without exerting much effort. His mind is too focused on how to recruit Morita-san into their band that he failed to notice that everyone’s attention is on him.

“ _Ano saa_ ,” Yu said, leaning from the drum set, “If I didn’t know that Toru is searching for our vocalist, I’d say that he’s _in love_ with someone.”

Alex-senpai nodded thoughtfully, “I totally agree…”

Toru ignored their comments. He wanted to say that he can perfectly hear their “ _whispers_ ” but that will just open up more conversations— _which I’m not really capable of doing at the moment_.

Never mind the fact that he offended Morita-san.

He should just think of a way to “ _bait_ ” the vocalist into joining the band instead. _You know_ , the thing you do with fish? Or like what those financial agents are doing to force you into getting a _loan or opening an account?_

Like a…

“Scammer- _mitai na!_ ” he suddenly said aloud, effectively catching everyone’s attention. He blinked, multiple times, when he noticed that everyone is giving him odd looks.

“Scammer?”

“I thought you’re thinking about the _vocalist_?”

“Are you okay, Toru- _nii_? You kinda look like shit, seriously—,” Ryota received a warm and ever-murderous glare from Toru, instantly shutting him up.

“Ah _gomen_ ,” he apologized, putting his heavy Gibson on his lap before properly facing the band, “You see… I was just thinking that… maybe we should start practicing in an actual studio?”

Toru heard everyone’s jaws dropped on the floor with a _THUD!_

“What?” Yuu asked, completely confused, “What’s wrong with practicing in this garage? We can talk as much as we want here, smoke in here— _yeah, I’m looking at the two of your, Toru and Ryota-kun_ —and most important of all, it’s _free_!”

Toru bit the inside of his cheek. The drummer has a point, but they can’t get better if they’ll just stay here. They can’t be a professional rock band if they’re just practically hanging out in this garage like a typical high school band.

_We can’t be good enough if we stay like this…_

…not good enough for Morita-san…

“Eh…” Toru glanced at the youngest, which is running his finger on the smooth side of his guitar’s neck, “I agree with Yu-senpai. I just bought—well, my _mom_ just bought this pretty guitar and practicing in studio will require money, right?” Ryota gave a sad smile, “I’m _totally_ broke.”

_So, money’s the biggest factor, huh…_

Toru gazed down on his old guitar. Just before he formed the band, he got fired from his job because he _“intently”_ hid the fact that he’s still in high school. Which also pissed the hell out of him.

_I mean, what’s wrong with wanting to earn money by yourself? It’s not that I’m flunking my classes, right?_

**Wrong.**

He just received a _barely_ passing grade on his kanji classes—his weakest subject.

_But that’s beside the point. Maybe I should get a new part-time job? Winter break is coming anyways so…_

“What made you think about a studio anyway?” he was pulled out of his stupor when Alex-senpai spoke, “It’s not like you to want things out of the sudden, right?”

Toru shrugged.

“This… this vocalist… he got an amazing voice and I really, really, _REALLY_ want him to join us…” he looked down on his open palms, raw and hard from playing too many chords he never even dreamt of playing— _well, not until now_ —“he’s just too bright… I’m scared that… that if we won’t be taking a step forward… he might slipped right through my grasp and I… I don’t want that…”

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s been _two weeks_.

Two weeks since Yankee-kun had last shown his scary face on the live house where Taka’s band is usually doing their gigs. It’s not like he’s counting the days, _seriously_.

Maybe the scary man had learned his lesson last time so he finally stopped pestering Taka for good. Although he’s still cringing every time he remembers the words that mercilessly poured out of his stupid mouth back then.

_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_

He actually wanted to apologize to that poor and somewhat disillusioned guy but Taka thinks that it is probably better to not see him again, _for like_ , ever.

Of course, the universe is still constantly fucking up his life because just as he was thinking about never seeing the man again, he saw a familiar tall man standing under the shed across the live house.

Oh shit. Fuck my life—

He immediately turned around to go back inside but the live house just closed hence why people are rushing to go outside—

“ _A-re, a-re, a-re_?!!” he muttered as the sea of patrons carried him to the direction he’s so desperate to get away from, “W-wait, excuse _mefgh_ —!”

He feels like drowning.

There’s just too much people—all of them laughing and talking and stinking of alcohol. They’re too tall—or Taka’s just smaller which made breathing harder for him that he even started to hyperventilate.

_Shit! Shit!_

_N-not now—_

_Fuck—_

A hand—a cold, _cold_ hand—suddenly shot out of nowhere and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the sea of people. He’s never been thankful to the heavens; his lungs which were screaming for air finally inhaled the fresh winter air as he stepped on the curb side, away from the crowd.

He doubled-over, both of his hands resting on his knees to support his upper body, as he panted for air. Cold sweat rolled on his face as his eyes desperately tried to focus.

Focus.

_Focus._

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Are you alright?” a deep baritone pierced the air, making Taka flinched without even looking up, “H-hey…”

_He’s still here?!_

Taka gulped— _so he’s the one who saved me? Damn. He even saw me wheezing lamely like that!_ —before standing straight and looking up at the taller who—

“You, you look awful!”

…

“Fuck!” he instantly slapped a hand over his mouth, “ _G-gomen_! I didn’t mean to—it’s just that you…you look different now…” he murmured, watching as the man’s ever sleepy eyes squinted in amusement. Before he knew it, Toru-san is already laughing out loud at him. Not a raucous loud, but more of a deep chuckling that reverberated from his chest.

Taka is not lying, _per se_.

Well, Toru-san looked indeed different. Somehow, his hair grew longer, fringes reaching half of his heavily-lidded eyes. He somewhat acquired more dark circles under his eyes, probably from exhaustion or lack of sleep or whatever— _I don’t give a flying fuck anyways_. He’s wearing a black button up and faded, tight pants. His sneakers are covered with snow, as well as the black guitar case slinging on his back—proving that he’s been outside for too long.

“Ah, ii yo. I just got out from our practice before going here so I don’t really have the chance to make myself look more presentable,” Toru-san said, hiding his grin behind a pale hand with reddening fingertips.

Taka’s brow rose at that.

Just out of practice? It will take 2 hours to travel here and it’s already 4 o’clock in the morning…

“You’re practicing at 2 o’clock in the morning?”

“Hmm… No, it’s actually one o’ clock.”

“That’s probably why you always look like a zombie,” Taka muttered as his eyes suddenly went wide in realization, “ _Ja_ , you’re standing here for two hours now?!”

Toru-san tilted his head, with that innocent yet scary look again, “How did you know?”

What.

“W-why didn’t you go inside you dumbass!” Taka snapped, shocking the both of them with his sudden outburst, “I…you could’ve frozen to death, you know?”

The younger looked at him with a raised brow before grinning sheepishly, “Not really… Besides, I’m kinda saving up at the moment so I can’t afford on entering the live house tonight? Today? Whatever,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“And… you waited here for two fucking hours in this freezing weather to what? Ask me to join your silly band again?”

Toru-san grinned before nodding, “Pretty much. Yeah.”

_Ugh. You dim-witted fool._

He was about to retort, probably lash out at this pest of a kouhai, again, when the man practically beat him into speaking.

“Look, I know that you’re thinking that we don’t deserve an amazing person like you,” Taka’s eyes widened at the serious _(and almost confessional_ ) tone Toru-san had adapted, “But I’m doing all that I can to make our band grow. I know that we’re not the best, we’re not even _that_ good, ahahahaha,” a hollow laugh escaped his pale, thin lips, “But we’re now practicing in a studio and I would really appreciate if you’ll come one day to watch—or better, join—us,” Toru-san then bowed deeply to him.

_S-shit._

_What am I supposed to say against that?!_

He gulped when Toru-san maintained his bow, totally not caring about the onlookers and passer-by's who gave them strange looks.

“ _A-are…ano saa_ —I already told you that—,” he jumped back in surprise when Toru-san suddenly straightened up, giving him a fiercely determined look, “I—I won’t—,”

“We probably don’t deserve you, at all, but I think that someone as talented as you deserves to enjoy singing with confidence,” he said before bowing again, this time as if to say goodbye, “I’ll be back, no matter how many times it’ll take to ask you to join us, Morita-san. _De wa, matta ne_ ,” and without even waiting for Taka’s response, Toru-san jogged away—leaving a gaping Takahiro on that cold, cold curb-side.

_W-what the actual fuck?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOR's cover of One More Light is kiiling me.
> 
> I apologize for my grammar errors and failed attempt on writing a good story haha.
> 
> Thanks for those who read this and to those who lfet kudos!


	5. Hitsuzen Maker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toru's stalking spree continues~!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Do I know even a little about what life feels like?  
> I kept asking myself that and was lost"
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: No. No. Still not miiiiiiine~

_Ah… Tsukaretta…_

Toru watched as the white smoke from his cigarette billowed and went upwards. It is snowing again, and despite the freezing weather, he’s still spending his lunch breaks in the back of the school gym—away from the administrator and student council’s prying eyes. He usually spent his lunch break by smoking, eating pieces of his convenience store-brought lunch and listening to western music through his Walkman.

Sometimes, Ryota would join him and talk about his favorite bassist or how he wanted to have a pet dog, or about almost failing his subjects.

Toru shouldn’t really be concerning himself with Ryota’s never-ending dilemma, but since they’ve known each other since elementary days, Toru had already, albeit begrudgingly, accepted Ryota as his somewhat younger brother.

So, even if Toru is already struggling to balance his school life, multiple odd jobs, band practices, and _stalking_ that Morita Takahiro, he still spends time on listening how Ryota failed an exam just because he _missed the entire point of questions_.

“I don’t even see the point on why we should study English!” Ryota muttered, “It’s not like I’m gonna go overseas and conquer the world in the first place!”

Toru exhaled more smoke before glancing at his younger friend, “I think you’re gonna regret that— _big time_ —in the future,” he said in a raspy voice, displaying some sick psychic powers.

“Says the man who almost flunk his _kanji_ exam,” Ryota snorted before suddenly turning serious, “Anyways, are you alright? You…you kinda sounds… _off_?”

“I always sound like this?” Toru made a non-committal grunt before dropping the stub of his cigarette inside his bottle of half-filled water, “I’m fine. Do I look like I’m not okay?”

Ryota looked at him thoroughly.

“You look like shit.”

“Wow. _Thanks_.”

“No, I’m serious!” Ryota insisted, “Just…just look at you! You look like a walking corpse!”

“Everybody else called that ‘ _zombie_ ’, Ryota.”

“I’m not joking! You never walked to the dorm with me anymore. The dorm lady told me that you always come home before sunrise! You took so many jobs that you’re even getting difficulty with your classes—just…just to afford that stupid studio practice! And Alex- _senpai_ even told me that you’re still stalking that vocalist!”

Toru blinked, watching in silence as the younger one ranted his lungs out. He rarely see Ryota like this. The shy, genius Ryota who would always stand in the background—flushing when someone is complimenting him, and would be the only kind soul to break the tension when everyone’s about to fight.

Toru watched in awe as a vibrant scarlet crept up to the younger’s face, while Ryota panted for his desperately needed air. When Ryota stared at him afterwards, probably expecting him to answer or give a piece of his mind or _just say something_ , he deeply sighed.

“Ryota, _Ryota_ ,” he chanted in a chastising voice, “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m fine? It’s not like I’m complaining about it right?”

“But that’s the whole point, Toru _-nii_! You’re not depending on us— _on me_ —anymore! It’s like you’re trying to shoulder all the responsibilities!”

“Isn’t that the job of the band leader?”

Ryota instantly shut up at that. His shoulders slumped in defeat before taking a seat beside Toru. He heard the younger sighed multiple times before Ryota spoke again.

“Maybe,” he said in a rather uncharacteristically silent voice, “Maybe, I should also take a part time job, Toru- _nii…_ ”

“ _Nah_ ,” the elder smiled, ruffling the younger’s already messy hair, “You should focus more on your studies. Your mom would kill me if she knows that I’m forcing you to work for the band or something!”

“But—,”

“Seriously, Ryota,” Toru said sternly, his tone not leaving any room for more arguments, “Just focus on studying and playing bass _correctly_ —,”

“Ouch.”

“—and make your mom proud of you, ‘kay?” he asked, waiting for Ryota to finally nod in understanding.

_Good._

Toru sniffled, looking up at the somber gray clouds hovering above them. The snow endlessly fall, slowly _oh-so_ slowly, everywhere--coating everything in a fine, shimmering white fluff. The bell would ring any moment from now so they should probably go back to their classrooms. Toru stood up and dusted his pants off. He put his Walkman into his pockets and glanced down at Ryota who’s still crouching, staring at the wide, open oval before them.

“ _Nee,_ Toru- _nii_ …”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you really think that we need a new member?”

Toru shook his head, already getting a hint on where this conversation is heading to. “Of course. We would never be called a band if we don’t have a vocalist, Ryota.”

Ryota suddenly stood up, “But you can sing! You can beat-box and rap and scream! Isn’t that enough?”

“ _A-re_ … I think you’re forgetting about the fact that I just got a surgery exactly because of _that_ —,”

“I—I already…already feel that sometimes, _sometimes_ , I feel out of place in the band. Everyone’s older than me; I’m the youngest and _most stupid_...that somehow, I feel like I don’t really belong there...”

Toru’s gaze instantly softened at that.

_Ah…here’s the Ryota I know since elementary…_

The shy, timid and always anxious Ryota. The one who came into the HEADS audition while shaking in fear and tightly clutching on Toru’s shirt.

“…and if you’ll bring another one into our band, I’m scared that I’ll even fall behind? I don’t want that, Toru- _nii_ …” he whined childishly. Toru shook his head and put an arm around Ryota’s stiff shoulders, forcing the younger to look at the oval again.

“You’re not gonna be left out, Ryota. I swear, after he join us, our band would become _better_. We’ll never have to think of those things and we’ll make great music and perform in huge places and meet more awesome people,” he ruffled the younger’s hair, patting him on his back to emphasize his point, “And I swear, as long as I’m here, you’ll never be left out, okay? So get better in playing bass, _ne_?”

Toru ignored how the skin around Ryota’s eyes reddened, probably in an attempt to prevent himself from crying. He just waited, and _waited_ , until Ryota, although hesitantly, nodded in affirmation.

“ _H-hai_ , Toru- _nii…_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s storming.”

“ _Hai._ ”

“And yet you’re here again.”

“That’s correct.”

“How the fuck did you even know where I’m working?”

“I asked Shinji-san about it.”

Takahiro wanted to find the nearest hard surface and smash his head onto it. He really should have thought that this emotionless asshole would not give up—not even after not showing his face for almost a week!

_And for fuck’s sake, I’m not counting the days, okay?!_

He groaned, shuffling his hands into the pocket of his hooded jacket.

The snow tonight has been thicker than the day before.

It has already coated the roads in a fine, white blanket—dusting the trees in a delicate and soft specks, dipping the temperature down to almost negative in just six hours. According to the news earlier, the temperature tonight break another record as the coldest day in December, surpassing yesterday’s chill by yet another degrees.

He was quite lucky that he lives close to his part time job because the train and bus companies halted their operations due to the thick mass of snow on the roads. Taka had originally planned to rush back into his unit so as soon as his shift was over, he was already on the back door, clad in his thick winter clothes.

Then, Toru-san suddenly appeared out of thin air, wearing a knitted long sleeved-shirt, black pants and his backpack and guitar case strapped onto his back.

_Does this man never dress for winter?!_

Taka immediately pushed that thought away— _that is not the point here!_

“You know that trains and bus companies cancelled their trips for tonight, right?” he asked impatiently, watching as the younger’s face lit out in realization, “How the fuck do you think you’re going back home?”

Toru-san tilted his head, probably thinking before blinking down at him with those clueless eyes, “Sleep in the train station and wait for them to open, I guess?”

“Oh you _dumb fuck_ —,” Taka exhaustedly face-palmed, “You really think that you can sleep in the station with this weather?!” he flung his hand to point the knee-deep snow they’re currently standing in— _now that I mentioned it, I should probably end this conversation before I get sick_ —

“I’ve been into worse,” Toru shrugged, his pale, chapped lips shaking a bit, “Besides; you didn’t come to our practice. I invited you, right? Everyone’s waiting for you. I even thought that something bad happened to you so…”

“Does it not occur to you that I didn’t come because I probably _don’t want to_?” he gritted out. Unlike this huge-ass man, Taka could already feel his body trembling from the cold, even though he’s fully equipped with thick clothes.

Toru-san merely stared back at him, for around five seconds, before Taka finally snapped. “Oh, forget it!” he said before grabbing the man’s wrist, pulling him away from the restaurant, “Come on! I’ll die in this curbside if we stay here for any longer!”

Toru-san didn’t even make an effort to get out of his hold, “where are we going?”

“To my apartment.”

“ _Whoa_ ,” he heard the younger drawled in amazement behind him, “Does that mean that you’re joining—,”

“Hell no!” he barked, glaring at the younger over his snow-coated shoulder, “I just don’t want my conscience bugging me if you froze to death sooner or later!”

 

* * *

 

 

Toru find it, _dare I say it_ , cute—the way this Morita-san attempts to huff and puff and look angry at him but almost toppled over in the deep snow _every ten meters_ or something. He find it funny since Morita-san resembles some cute Pokémon, a small one who’s desperately trying to look intimidating to his opponents.

But, Toru can’t really laugh since it would probably just offend the vocalist— _and would lessen my chance on recruiting him_ —

“The hell are you laughing at?!”

— _or probably not_.

Toru immediately stopped snickering, “What? DO I look like laughing?” he then put on his most stoic expression on his face. Morita-san narrowed those partially covered eyes at him as if he’s dissecting Toru’s very soul, before turning around to continue walking in front of him. The moment that the vocalist did, Toru instantly raised his hand to stop himself from bursting out of laughing.

 

* * *

 

 

After about an hour of trudging through the snow, and countless _near-trippin_ g- _and-falling-face-first-on-the-snow_ accident on Morita-san’s part, the two finally arrived at Morita-san’s apartment. It wasn’t really in a rundown building nor located in a fancy area of Tokyo. It actually screamed of normalcy which is a huge contrast on the way Taka-san dressed.

“We’re here,” Morita-san announced the obvious after stopping in front of a door. He fished out his keys and while the older is busy trying ( _and failing_ ) for the right one, Toru focused his attention on the nameplate beside the door. It says Morita Takahiro alright, but it wasn’t really that old, signifying that Morita-san just moved in.

And his name is the one on the door. Does this mean that he’s living alone?

Toru suddenly felt his respect for this person shot up at that. Even in Tokyo, it is rare to see high school students like Morita-san to live and support his own.

“The hell are you still doing there?” Toru blinked, realizing that Morita-san had already gone inside, and is looking at him expectantly, “What are you waiting for? Should I mail you and invitation first?”

_He really should tone down his shitty attitude, though._

He shrugged and took his shoes off at the small _genkan_ before stepping onto the old, wooden floor with his soggy socks.

“ _Ojamashimasu_!” he announced, his eyes instantly began roaming around the older’s home. It was a medium-sized unit with an open plan. He can see a bathroom door at the far end of the kitchen, and aside from those, the unit has no other rooms. The walls are bare—no family photos, posters, or even music sheets plastered on it. Clothes, uniforms and CD cases were strewn around the bed.

There’s really no furniture in the unit—well, aside from the bed and a small circular low table. The guy doesn’t even have a television set nor a cabinet for clothes. In fact, he can still see the stack of gigantic boxes in a corner that can probably swallow the smaller man whole with their sizes _. It’s probably where his clothes are stored in_ , Toru thought.

Toru swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He knows that Morita-san is probably the _angstiest_ and most _emo_ person he’d ever met—but, to actually witness how impersonal, how bare and lonely his home is…

Somehow, it makes Toru feel a _bit_ of sadness.

It looks like that Morita-san rarely goes home and if he ever does, he would probably just spend it for sleeping or for hygienic purposes. Toru gulped at that thought. His hands unconsciously gripped the strap of his guitar case tighter, watching as the older fumbled with the heater in the corner.

“ _Yosh_!” he said triumphantly before going towards the stack of smaller boxes, completely ignoring Toru’s presence. Toru is already starting to doubt if the vocalist is still aware that he’s inside his home or not, so he awkwardly cleared his throat to gain the older’s attention.

“ _Ano_ …where’s your father, Morita-san?”

He must have struck a wrong chord at that when the vocalist’s shoulders visibly stiffened but didn’t made any effort to face Toru, “ _Nai_ ,” he muttered.

“Mother?”

“ _Nai_.”

“Siblings?”

“ _Nai_.”

“Pet?”

“ _Nai_.”

“Girlfriend?”

At that, Morita-san turned around to give him a nasty look, “What’s with the 20 questions?” he asked before going back on digging through a pile of clothes inside the box. Toru shrugged, noting how Morita-san resembles an animal… _what was it called again_?

“I’m just curious if you’re really living alone or what…”

_…it’s a dog, but what kind of dog?_

_Hnnn..._

Toru should have paid more attention to the ads on TV about cats and dogs.

“You could’ve just asked about it,” Morita-san mumbled, throwing a pile of clothes on Toru’s direction, “Go change. Your clothes are damped from the snow, right?”

Toru looked at the clothes that landed on his guitar case—it was composed of an overly sized black shirt ( _which is obviously doesn’t belong to Morita-san since he’ll surely be swallowed by this shirt_ ) and a loose-fitting pajama bottoms that would surely be too short for Toru.

He wanted to refuse, to tell Morita-san that he really should’ve not bothered on looking clothes for him, but the impatient tapping of the vocalist’s socked foot on the floor made Toru obediently follow like a lost puppy.

“Bathroom’s there. There’s already towels inside.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Toru emerged from the bathroom minutes later, wearing the pajamas that barely reach the half of his calves, he noticed that Morita-san had already changed his clothes. He’s now wearing a loose black sweater and an old gym pants while his feet remained bare to the cold air. The vocalist probably still hadn’t noticed that Toru is standing by the bathroom since he continued on shaking his head sideways to remove the molten snow from there—his fluffy brown curls bouncing side by side like a—

— _a poodle! That’s it!_

At that moment, Toru decided that Morita-san resembles _a cute, tiny brown poodle_. He even mentally nodded at his _bright_ conclusion.

Toru is still too immersed in his world of imaginations that he failed to notice that Morita-san is currently looking at him, from head to toe, “You look _ridiculous_ in those clothes,” he commented, a small grin playing on his full lips.

Toru blinked away from his reverie, noting the slight smile on the older one’s lips, before smiling himself, “Ah, you’re probably right, but I can’t be really choosy in my situation…” he admitted, padding towards the living area.

“Haa…but you’ll still freeze to death if you stay like that,” Morita-san muttered before digging into another box of clothes, “Let me at least get you a pair of socks—,”

“What?! No, don’t bother—,”

“Don’t worry, they’re new—,”

“T-then all the reason not to bother for it!” Toru insisted but he immediately relented when the older gave him an unimpressed look, “W-well, if you really insist. I’ll take your used ones…”

Morita-san looks like he’s about to say more things but he probably thought that it’s better to give it up for the sake of ending that silly argument. He shook his head in annoyance before turning to another box. He fished out a pair of knee-high socks, patterned with black and white gingham checks, and threw it at Toru’s face, “Wear this, then, dumbass.”

 

* * *

 

 

Takahiro can’t really tell what had gone into his mind when he invited a stranger— _which he only knows by the name of Yamashita Toru_ —into his apartment unit. He even offered a change of clothes (which looks awful on him by the way, _pffft_!), his favorite socks ( _I just hope that he don’t have some food disease or something_ ), and to top it all, free food.

_Free food._

Yes, the aloof and despicable Morita Takahiro just offered this Yamashita Toru to eat the food he’s currently preparing.

Damn, he’s too _kind_ that he can be canonized as a saint. Or the next _Buddh_ a. Or _Gandhi._ Or someone great, _really_.

_Ah, how the mighty have fallen._

He sighed, chopping the potatoes and carrots with a _bit_ of more force, the knife producing a steady, loud THUD against the chopping board. He is cooking an instant curry for dinner—or breakfast or _what-the-fuck-ever_ , and since Toru-san is _kind o_ f his guest, he decided that he’ll put extra vegetables to make it _special_.

_Special, my ass._

He washed the chopped vegetables before putting them into the pot of curry mix on the stove. He subtly glanced at the younger teen, watching as Toru-san sways back and forth on his spot on the floor. His lidded eyes darting everywhere as if he’s inspecting every nook and cranny of his humble abode.

He stirred the sauce, praying that it would hurry up and thicken because he’s also somewhat starving at the moment.

_I just hope that he won’t find my stash of porn—_

“Wow, you have a really _huge_ collection of porn magazines huh—,”

Taka slammed the lid of the pot with a resounding _CLANK!_ As Toru-san suddenly pulled out a pile of dirty magazines from under the bed.

_How the hell did he even found—_

“Don’t touch my things!” he barked, making the guitarist look back at him with a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Why? We’re both men anyways,” Toru-san said as he lazily flipped through the glossy pages—each sound of a page being flipped grates Taka-s eardrums badly, “These kinda prove that you’re still a normal teenager like us…” he then put the pile back under the bed.

“I am a _NORMAL_ teenager!”

“Of course.”

“What’s with that tone, huh!?”

Toru-san shrugged, leaning back into his arms as he stared on the blank, beige walls of Taka’s apartment. A comfortable, lengthy silence ensued between them. The only sound that can be heard is the harsh hissing of the steam from the pot and the howling wind outside. Judging by that, Taka can already say that there would be a thigh-deep snow outside later.

_How the hell would this jerk go home in this weather?_

“ _Ano saa_ …” Toru-san suddenly spoke in a softer manner; “I just formed our band almost 2 months ago…” he started in a casual, conversational tone.

“Look, Toru-san, I’m not really interested with your back story—,”

“—I just got fired from my job,” Taka clenched his teeth when Toru-san _convenientl_ y ignored him and continued speaking in a reminiscent voice, “our dance group just disbanded, man, it was like the end of the world for me…”

Taka snorted as he stirred the thick brown sauce of the curry. He doesn’t really give a flying fuck about Toru-san’s life dramas but since Taka is in Zen-mode today, he just let the guy do what he wants. Let him tire himself on talking to people who wouldn’t listen.

“I got so depressed back then so I tried listening to some Western Music. They’re kinda famous now,” Toru-san grinned up at him, “You know Good Charlotte and Linkin Park?”

Taka hesitantly nodded, without saying anything as he coat the rice servings with the thick curry sauce. He mentally noted that this kid has some great tastes because Taka recognized those bands as one of his recent favorites.

“They’re super cool, yeah?” Toru-san gave a loop-sided grin, “I thought so, too, so I made up my mind one night and told my friend that I want to form a band. He seems reluctant at first, wait,” Toru-san crossed his arms over his chest, remembering the events of that specific night, “or maybe he’s just grumpy because I woke him up in the _middle of the night_?”

“Everyone would be grumpy if you wake them up just to tell your stupid dream,” Taka mumbled as he put the plates on the table. His eyes instantly focusing on the table top when he saw Toru-san visibly lit up at the mere sight of food.

“This…Is this for me?” Toru-san looked at him for confirmation, much like how a child acts before a sumptuous feast when he can’t touch anything without his parents’ permission. Takahiro nodded; somewhat glad that the younger seemed to instantly forgot about telling their nameless band’s story.

“De _wa_ ,” Toru-san clapped his hands in gratitude, “ _Itadakimasu!_ ”

“ _Dozo_ ,” Taka held his chopsticks, mumble a few words of thanks to the gods before digging in. They ate in silence for the first few minutes. Taka silently praised himself for the good output of his attempt in cooking. He can taste the rich flavors of curry exploding in his mouth with every bite.

He’s not really into bragging, but damn, _this is the best curry I’ve ever made_.

“Wah, _uma_ i!”

Taka almost spluttered the food in his mouth when Toru-san suddenly yelled his compliments for Taka—or more specifically, his cooking—out of the blue. “This is really good!” Toru-san said after swallowing another mouthful, “Are you a chef or something?!”

“No, you dumbass,” Taka looked down on his half-eaten food, furiously fighting the full-blown blush that was about to invade his entire face, “It’s just an instant curry. All I did was boil it.”

“ _Uso_!” Toru-san cried in denial, “I’ve tried this in our dorm and it tasted like _shit_! Ryota said that it’s just me sucking at cooking but I beg to disagree! That curry was just,” Toru’s eyes narrowed, hanging his words ominously, “ _pure evil_ ,” then he suddenly grinned like a total bipolar, “but you made this curry, not just edible, but good as hell!”

Taka rolled his eyes.

“Even if you shower me with praises, I still refuse to join your band.”

“ _Ehhhhh_ ,” Toru-san whined before taking another bite, “Ryota, the friend I’m talking about earlier is a good guy,” he casually started that conversation again.

“I told you, I’m not interes—,”

“He seems loud and hyperactive but he’s actually a shy and nervous person, especially around new people,” Taka scoffed, deciding on not saying anything and focused on eating his food instead, “I wonder how he’ll react when he meets you?”

He shot the younger a warning look.

Why couldn’t he get it?

_How many times do I have to tell him that I’m not interested in joining their band for him to finally understand it?!_

But, judging on how the guitarist conveniently ignored his rejections earlier, Taka would probably need to pound that fact on this man’s oblivious and annoying head before he gets it.

“Our drummer is weird sometimes,” Toru-san easily dodged his scathing glares, “I think he just agreed on joining the band because he wants to be famous? He said that he wants to be an actor someday.”

“Everybody does, apparently,” Taka muttered before standing to get the pot of tea he had prepared earlier.

“Yeah, “ Toru-san agreed, “His skills are average but we’re still practicing so I think that he’ll get better as time goes by,” he then put down his chopsticks, “ _gochisōsamadeshita_!”

Taka nodded, putting mint leaves on the kettle before putting the lid back on, “Do you want coffee or…?” he trailed off, not wanting to force the younger teen to drink his spicy ginger tea.

“No, no! I’ll have whatever you’re having, Morita-san!”

Taka wanted to say that the younger wouldn’t probably like his taste for ginger tea but he’s not really in the mood for another argument over petty things so he just shrugged and brought the teapot, along with two mismatched cups, back onto the table.

“Ryota is our bassist anyway,” Toru-san said , off-handedly as Taka poured tea into the cups, “I know that he doesn’t really want to play the bass but when he listened to the bassist of Red Hot Chili Peppers, he suddenly grew fond of it. He even bought a brand new guitar!”

“A high school student buying a guitar?” Taka can’t help himself from asking, “Is his family loaded?”

“Not really,” Toru-san shrugged before grabbing the cup with his larger hands, “Thanks for the tea.”

Taka nodded and sipped his own, watching the younger’s expression over the rim of his cup attentively. Toru-san sipped the tea and—

“Ugh! _Kara_ i!!!” he muttered, throwing Taka a look of _ultimate betrayal_ , “How can you drink this kind of tea?!” he asked in horror, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Taka’s eyes glinted in triumph and amusement, “It’s good for my throat. I really can’t indulge myself with sweets so…” he shrugged, desperately trying to prevent himself from laughing out loud at Toru-san’s disgruntled face.

“You could’ve _warned_ me…”

“Ehhhh,” Taka tilted his head innocently, “If that’s so, then you could’ve asked for the _coffee_ earlier.”

“ _Blegh_ ,” Toru-san doubled over, desperately trying to flush the vile taste from his tongue, and suddenly fished out a pack of half-empty cigarette from his guitar case, “Do you have a designated area here for smoking?”

“You smoke?” Taka dumbly asked.

“No. These are just props.”

Taka looked up at the taller man with a dumbfounded look on his face, instantly realizing how stupid his question was. He was about to aggressively defend himself when Toru-san stood up and grinned down at him—mischief dancing along his heavily lidded eyes.

“Ugh,” Taka groaned in defeat, slowly getting up from his seat, “Come on, I’ll lead you there.”

“Ah, no need to get out yourself. Just point it to me. You easily catch a cold in this weather, yeah?” Toru-san said, his fingers clutching the pack impatiently, showing his craving for the tobacco. Taka shook his head in defiance, leading the way nonetheless while muttering, “better than you being mistaken for a burglar or something.”

 

* * *

 

 

Taka watched in silence as Toru lit up a stick and sighed contentedly after inhaling the cancerous smoke of the cigarette. He cradled his face with both of his freezing hands as he wonder why people get addicted to that stuff. He tried it at once, due to childish and rebellious curiosity but aside from his career’s _ultimate_ demise, all Taka can remember is its bitter yet bland taste.

_I even got a massive coughing fit for, like, hours, thanks to that stick._

How lame.

He sighed, rubbing his hands together to create warmth from their friction. It’s getting colder as the morning slowly approaches, and at the moment, all Taka wants is to go back into his warm room, snuggled under his blankets and sleep like a log for the next few hours.

But, no.

Here he is, patiently waiting for Toru-san to finish smoking.

“You want a drag?” Toru-san asked perceptively when he noticed that Taka has been staring at him from the start. Taka huffed, hugging himself to preserve as much body heat as possible, “Nah. I’d like to save my voice and my life, thank you very much,” he sarcastically replied.

Toru-san shrugged. If he got offended at that, he’s doing a quite good job on hiding it. “That’s nice,” he agreed, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air, “I’m not really that much of a smoker. I actually quit it when I was recovering from a surgery weeks ago.”

_What?_

Taka’s head whipped towards the guitarist.

“You had a surgery and you’re still smoking? Are you an idiot?!”

“ _Da-ka-ra_ ,” Toru-san explained patiently, as if he’s talking to a _dumb_ child, “I quit it. But things got a bit difficult these past few weeks and smoking helped me kinda relax. It’s not I’m doing this on a daily basis…” he trailed off, the hand holding his cigarette gestures to himself.

Takahiro scowled, not quite understanding why he suddenly had the urge to slap the man into oblivion. It’s not like he give a shit about the younger’s health, anyway.

“If you join our band, I promise, I won’t smoke anywhere near you. _EVER_.”

He snapped his gaze towards the taller man who is currently stubbing the butt of his cigarette on the huge ashtray in that smoking area.

“Oh please,” he scoffed, “You don’t have to force yourself on my account.”

“You’re saying that but you look like you’re gonna die when my smoke hit you on your face, Morita-san,” Toru-san said teasingly.

“I didn’t! I just don’t like it when someone’s purposely ruining their health for that…that vile thing!” he hotly defended himself, earning a loop-sided from the guitarist, “I don’t even know why kids these days want to smoke. It’s not even that cool! It leaves a horrendous taste on your tongue and I swear—fuck—you won’t stop coughing for, like, three hours. I mean, if you want to really die young, then sure. Go on. Smoke to your heart’s content, slowly kill the remaining brain cells in your stupid head. I really don’t give a flying fuck,” he fired words after words, much like a machine gun spitting bullets from time to time.

Toru-san must’ve been shocked with his sudden outburst because he gave him this long, blank stare before he spoke after a moment.

 _Shit. He probably now thinks that I’m weird!_ Taka inwardly cringed at that, mentally cursing and blaming his traitorous body parts for spouting a shit-ton of rants. _Stupid mouth. Stupid brain._

“So, does that mean that you’re gonna join our—,”

“ _Masaka_!” he stood up, hugging himself tightly, “Stop daydreaming, idiot! Let’s get inside; my ass is already freezing out here!”

 

* * *

 

 

Toru san has been lazily strumming on his guitar since they went inside the apartment. The younger insisted that he would wash the dishes but Takahiro won’t take any of that, so he washed the dishes, put the guitarist’s damp clothes into the dryer, and prepared the bed—all while listening to the soft yet clear strums of the guitar strings.

Taka fluffed a pillow— _one of the only two he owned_ —and put it on the bed he laid for Toru-san to sleep onto.

Except that the bed is actually more of _a mess of blankets_ laid on top of each other to create a makeshift mattress. He never expected that someone would visit him in this house so never really invested on buying an extra futon for guests.

_Whatever._

Toru-san should still better be _thankful_ since this _pathetic excuse for a mattress_ is still 10 times better than the hard, cold metal chairs in the train station. He stood up and surveyed his work with both of his hands on his hips, before taking a glance at the younger teen.

Toru-san’s eyes are closed, his hands glided skillfully on the strings, creating a steady rhythm of melodies. The man looked lost in his own world that even Taka stopped his musings to watch him, not really wanting to disrupt the smooth flow of the wordless song. He watched as Toru-san bit his lip in concentration, his head gently rocking to and fro, in tune with the rhythm of his guitar.

_Well, at least he’s quite decent in his craft…_

“ _Ne_ , Toru-san,” he said after moments of remaining in silence. Toru-san blinked his eyes open, looking quite disoriented for seconds before he probably realized that he’s not alone nor he’s in his own home, “What exactly do in your band?”

“Hmmm?” Toru-san hummed, his fingers still gently plucking the strings of the acoustic guitar perching on his lap, “I’m the rhythm guitarist. And the leader, I guess?”

Tara blinked at that revelation, “ _A-re_? You’re not the lead guitarist?”

Toru-san laughed heartily as if Taka had just dropped the funniest joke of the century, “ _Muri deshou_ ,” he waved his hands, the room plunging into a piercing silence as he halted playing his guitar, “We have a lead guitarist. Alex- _senpai_ has more talent and is a lot better than me…” he trailed off.

“ _Arekku_? Isn’t that a foreign name?”

“I think he’s half-American, he even got three names. Isn’t that _super_ _cool_?”

“I think it’s _super bothersome_ to write that long name in _katakana_.”

“Yeah, you got a point in there,” Toru-san nervously scratched the back of his head, “So, how about it? Are you ready to join our band now that I’ve told you about our members?”

“No,” Taka said without missing a beat.

“ _Hayai!_ ” Toru-san complained, “Can you please at least think about it before declining me?” he said, crawling towards Taka in a forceful manner, “You can watch us perform in the studio then decide if we’re worthy of you or not. I’ll even pay for your travel expenses!”

“Is your family loaded?”

“No but I have multiple part-time jobs and—,”

“Hell no!” he sternly said, making the younger frown in disapproval, “I won’t let a minor like you to pay for my expenses—,”

Taka yelped indignantly when the other leaned forward, grabbing both of his hands—totally disregarding his personal space! Large, calloused hands enveloped his much smaller and ( _unfortunately)_ feminine hands as Toru-san get closer and closer.

“Then you’ll come?”

Takahiro could’ve said a straight no to his face, but seeing the glimmering hope on Toru-san’s usually blank eyes made it difficult to reject the guitarist.

_T-there’s nothing wrong with checking out the other band’s performance right?_

He might even get a reason to properly decline this stalker if he find his band’s performance lousy!

He gulped, noticing how Toru-san’s half-lidded eyes are still fixedly staring at him.

How can someone younger than him can look as intimidating as a full-grown man?!

_D-damn this persistent fucker!_

He sighed, shoving the man away with as much force he can manage— _which is actually equivalent to a toddler pushing a plush toy away,_ “Fine, I’ll think about i—,”

“ _Yosha_!”

“Shhhh!!!” he hushed when Toru-san suddenly screamed, “Do you want to wake my entire neighborhood, you idiot?!”

The guitarist immediately assumed a perfect seiza position but with a boyish and satisfied grin adorning his face, “ _Gomen, gomen_. I’m just too happy…”

“You don’t saaaay…”

“ _Hontou_! I’ve been dreaming for this since I heard you singing—,”

“Oh for the love of _kami_ , can you fucking shut up?” he snapped, making the younger to instantly zip his mouth shut, “I honestly didn’t take you for a talker. Besides, I just said that I’ll _think_ about watching you play, not to join your band, so don’t throw a party yet.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Toru-san said, grinning like a fool. Takahiro couldn’t do anything but stare at that face-splitting grin. He _oh-so_ wanted to erase that stupid smile on his stupid face but he’s too exhausted to even try. Takahiro decided that Toru-san is a force to reckon with. He’s creepy, he’s a persistent stalker and he can act like a yakuza then a child in a blink of an eye. Taka really hated his horrible, _horrible_ luck of meeting this guy.

“Whatever,” he stood up and walked towards the light switch, “Let’s go to bed. You sleep on the floor.”

“ _Haiii…_ ” Toru-san whined like a child before pulling the guitar off him and crawling to the messy bed Taka had prepared for him. Taka was actually waiting for Toru-san’s reaction, _come on, tell me that it’s so fucking messy and ugly so I can finally have a good excuse to fling something_ — _preferably your guitar, to your stupid face, come ooon!_

But all Toru-san said was a soft mumble of “Thanks, Morita-san.”

Taka’s fingers hovered over the switch for a moment, his insides debating on his next actions.

_I would definitely regret this…_

“Taka.”

“Hmmm?” Toru-san looked up from rearranging the sheets on the floor. He looked confused for a moment but when he realized what the vocalist meant with that single word, a full-blown smile then tugged on the younger one’s thin lips, “ _Jaa_ , Toru. You can call me by just Toru.”

Taka nodded, ears flushing bright red as his chocolate curls bouncing before darkness flooded within the apartment unit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah~ A motherly Taka is really the best~
> 
> This ended up as a looong chapter because I can't fucking decide where to cut it. Anyways, thanks for the kudos~!


	6. You've Broken My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing notable really happened in this chapter. Well, it's just Toru is finally reaching his limit with Taka's reluctance in joining their band.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You've Broken My Heart So sad and utterly painful  
> I don't know what to do?"
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: ONE OK ROCK is still not mine~!

Even though Toru left the address of the studio where they have been practicing weekly and the time of the practice itself on a note in Taka-san’s apartment, the vocalist was still a _no-show_ at their practice last night— _er_ , this morning.

He knew that he should be patient— _as much as possible_ —regarding wooing Morita Takahiro into joining their band. The elder obviously have some issues on his own, but time is clicking away. In a few months from now, Alex-senpai would be graduating—that means that the eldest might focus on his modelling job, instead of playing with a _no name, vocalist-less_ band like them

_Who would want to stay with an incomplete band anyway?_

Toru sighed as he dropped the half-consumed cigarette on the snow-covered sidewalk. He just saw the familiar mop of curly hair going out of the restaurant. Taka-san is lightly skipping as he walked, his curls bouncing wildly with his every step.

“Taka-san!” he yelled, making the smaller man jump in surprise, “Taka!”

Toru expected the vocalist to turn around and greet him with his usual glares and scowls, or better, with a warm smile—the same that Toru plastered on his usually stoic face just for the sake of the vocalist— _because that’s what you do when you greet your friends, right?_

They have spent so many nights talking. Toru even slept over the other’s house, and _you can only do those things with your friends, right?_

So...why did Taka never looked back at him and _INSTEAD RUN TO THE **OPPOSITE DIRECTION**_ —

“What the— _hey_!” Toru’s legs immediately launched themselves into a running spree. Not caring about the slippery sidewalk, he sprinted after the vocalist, pushing the slow— _why are you all blocking my way_ —passerby’s away.

_Wha—_

_Why is he running away from me?!_

And at a very fast pace!

He never expected the midget ( _sorry, Taka-san_ ) to be a runner— _hell,_ Taka could easily bag an Olympic medal if he join the National Team with his record-breaking running speed!

“ **Taaakaaaa**!!!” he screamed, his lungs desperate for an extra supply of oxygen to support his strenuous choice of activity, “Why the fuck are you running _away_?!”

The vocalist glanced at him before sprinting even faster, leaving him on his dust, “Why the fuck _are you running after me_?!” ye yelled back with that raspy yet full voice.

Toru shivered at that.

_Ah, I really, really want that voice to sing my songs—wait— **THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR FANTASIZING ABOUT THAT!**_

They yelled at each other, back and forth, casually throwing insults and cussing as if they owned the world. Toru would not even be surprised if someone would call the police because there are these two suspicious-looking teenagers running and screaming around the downtown.

And oh, someone actually _did_.

Called the police, that is.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru-cringed as his older brother emerged from the police office, holding a white envelope. His face is unreadable, _very much like_ the younger teen’s, except that even just by a single look, he can already tell that his brother is _beyond_ pissed off.

Someone called the police earlier, getting Toru and Taka arrested for causing public disturbance. Since Toru is still a minor and not even a local resident in that area, he needed someone of adult age to get him out of the situation even after Taka had already dropped the stalking case against him.

His parents are out of the question— _god knows how they’ll react_ —so he opted for calling his older brother who is also living in Tokyo with his girlfriend. _Or fiancé_. Or _whatever_.

He raise an unsure smile at his approaching brother, “ _Yo_ , nii-chan—,”

“Don’t ‘ _yo, nii-chan_ ’ me, Toru,” the guitarist instantly bit his tongue when his brother snapped at him, “Do you know how worried I am when you suddenly called, telling me that you’re in some police station, _15 kilometers_ away from your dorm? And then these officers told me that you’ve been running around the city like a teenager totally _high with drugs_?” his brother said exasperatedly, “What are you _even_ doing here?”

Toru twisted his mouth, looking around for the very reason why he suddenly had his _first_ police record. His eyes found Taka’s almond shaped ones, glinting with mischief before looking away from the guitarist.

“Uh, I was just... _following_ someone around?” he said, unsurely, praying that his brother won’t accuse him of stalking too. When his brother’s expression darkened, he immediately realized that it was the wrong answer.

“So, you _really_ are stalking someone?”

“ _Ehhhh_ ,” he scratched his cheek, noticing that Taka is enjoying himself in watching how Toru is being hammered by his brother, “Stalking is such a _big word_ , nii-chan...I just want to recruit him to our band, _you know_ , the thing I formed with Ryota?”

Nii-chan looked _unimpressed_.

Toru groaned, hanging his head in defeat. He’s so tired, his lungs are still recovering from all the sprinting and screaming he did earlier, and now, even his own brother is doubting his innocence for god’s sake!

“Look, nii-chan,” he sighed, opening up his calloused palms, “I’m really sorry, okay? I promise, I won’t do it again?”

“What? Causing public disturbance or stalking someone?”

“Uhh...” Toru’s eyes darted sideways, trying to think of a good response, “Yeah,” he nodded, wincing when he saw Taka-san face-palmed in the corner of his eyes. The elder probably thought that Toru is a huge idiot for coming up with that _genius_ answer, “I won’t really do it again,” he repeated.

“You’d better coz you’ll end up behind the bars if you do,” his brother said before sighing, “It’s a good thing that Moriuchi-kun is not filing any case against you.”

Toru’s eyes snapped upwards at that, “ _Moriuchi-kun_?”

His brother jerked a thumb towards Taka, who, for some reason, suddenly looked at the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “He’s Moriuchi-kun, right? He said that you two are acquaintances and just fooling around in the downtown earlier.”

Toru unconsciously nodded, the gears in his mind reeling at that revelation.

Moriuchi?

_I’m pretty sure that he said that his name is Morita Takahiro last time..._

Toru felt his chest clenched painfully at that. It’s true that they’re no more than acquaintances, but still, he can’t believe that Taka would actually lie to him.

_Well, you’re just a nuisance to Taka-san, right? An obsessive and persistent stalker..._

Toru’s eyes glazed at that conclusion he’s reaching. He even shook his head in annoyance. His mouth went dry, craving for the taste of tobacco in his system to relieve the stress that is currently pressuring him.

He wants to punch something, or preferably, _someone_.

“Are you alright, Toru?,” his brother’s concerned voice pulled him out of his dazed state, “You want me to drop you to your dorm?”

He want to punch that Morita—Moriuchi— _who-the-fuck-ever Takahiro_ to his face, _seriously_.

“Y-yeah,” his voice cracked a little, “I’m fine. I’ll just take the train, just...just go back to your work. Sorry for bothering you again, nii-chan.”

The older one looked down at him, obviously unconvinced that he’s alright, but when his determined eyes didn’t waver even for a bit, his nii-chan just sighed in defeat, then suddenly fished out a strawberry-flavoured pocky from his suit pocket.

“Here. Take it. You love berries, right?”

Toru wanted to argue that he’s not a child anymore; that his problems won’t be solved by sweets; that his spirit won’t be lifted up by these strawberry cream-covered sticks, but instead, he meekly nodded and obediently accepted the treat.

“Do you always bring this treats with you or what?” he teased.

“ _Aho!_ My fiancé gave that to me before you called,” his brother waived a dismissive hand, “I’m going first. Head straight home, okay? The weather’s cold at these hours...” he trailed off before leaving the station.

Toru scoffed, silently opening the box. He tore the packaging and put a stick in his mouth. The sweet, milky and somewhat sour flavour filled his taste buds. It’s nowhere near the taste he’s craving for, but he guess that it’s fine. He really can’t smoke inside the police station anyway.

He subtly glanced at the man sitting across the hallway. Taka-san is already looking at the floor; his nimble hands are fiddling at the loose threads of his faded sweater. His messy curls covered most of his face and yet, Toru can easily tell that the older is getting nervous around him

Toru chewed the stick in satisfaction, _you’d better be_.

“Moriuchi? Moriuchi-san?” making the said man flinched when an officer peek from the office, “Come here for a second. You need to sign these dismissal papers for Yamashita Toru.”

Taka stood up, “ _Hai._..” and followed the officer back into the office. Toru just stared at the closed door for a moment before he decided that it’s time to go.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takahiro warily looked around for any signs of the taller man, and when he found none, he instantly felt his shoulders sagged in relief. It’s already past midnight, the air is bitter and crisp, harshly blowing to his face. Now that the creepy stalker is gone from his sight ( _and probably, life_ ), all he  want to do is go home, eat, and sleep to finally end this traumatizing day that he spent inside the police station.

_And it’s that stalker’s fault!_

He set out for his apartment, his short legs walked and walked despite the cold snow clinging onto his pants. He would hug himself whenever a particularly harsh wind breezes past him. He really couldn’t care any of that. The only thing that was occupying his mind is the look of _disappointment_ and _hurt_ that flashed on Toru-san’s face earlier upon hearing about his real name.

_Moriuchi Takahiro._

He did not exactly lie about being a Morita, but that doesn’t make the guilt gnawing at his system to just magically go away.

_Toru-san even left without telling me..._

Which is kind of expected since Taka has been _constantly_ spouting harsh things to push the adamant guitarist away. Maybe, Toru-san had finally learned his lesson today.

That you _can’t_ really trust, let alone _stalk_ , someone you just randomly met.

Taka guessed that he should be happy, now that his persistent stalker has probably stopped pestering him for good, but there’s also this strange feeling that is swelling from his chest. He can’t really give a name for it. It’s foreign and yet, he somehow knew that he had felt it before.

 It’s like... _regret_?

Sorrow?

Fear?

_Of what_?

_Of being left alone_?

...

...

“ _Pffffft_!” he laughed like a total maniac behind his freezing hands at that ridiculous idea.

Him?

Scared of being _alone_?

He, _who left everything and everyone_ in favour of starting with a blank slate, would be scared of being alone?

_Haa_!

Totally ridiculous!

He chuckled, reprimanding himself for even thinking of those things while walking outside. People might call the police, or worse, the nearest mental asylum, if they saw him bursting into another giggling fit again.

“H-haha...hahaha,” he shook his head as he climbed the stairs towards the seconds floor. However, his eager steps slowly faltered as he saw a silhouette of a person standing in front of his door, “ _ha...ha..._ ” his soft chuckles slowly faded away as he recognized that person...

There, standing in the dark, is none other than the man he _never want to see anymore_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos~!
> 
>  
> 
> I don't have any idea about the name of Toru's brother so let's just call him nii-chan~


	7. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember when Taka said in an interview, years and years ago, that his first kiss was sweet and tasted like strawberries?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Take my hand  
> And bring me back"
> 
> Disclaimer: ONE OK ROCK will never be mine :(

_Ack! It’s Toru-san!_

Taka’s feet immediately stepped backwards—in surprise or fear, Taka doesn’t really know—his mind telling him to _GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THAT PSYCHO STALKER_ —

“Don’t even try to pull that _running-away-shits_ again, Taka-san,” the vocalist felt a shiver running on his spine with the warning of that deep baritone voice. In fact, he even froze on his spot as Toru-san made a few steps towards him.

Taka gulped, seeing that Toru-san’s usually heavily lidded eyes are squinting— _glaring, actually_ —at him. A stick of pocky rested on his lips while he pointed another cream-covered biscuit at Taka as if he was brandishing a _deadly weapon_ to scare him off or something.

“ _Matte, matte, nani sore_?” Taka’s brows rose at the younger’s weird choice of... _uhm_ , weapon, “Am I supposed to be afraid of that...what is that? Is that a strawberry pocky?”

Despite the dire situation he’s in, Taka can’t really take Toru-san’s  threatening stance very seriously.

He lifted a questioning gaze to Toru-san.

_Really? You think you can scare me with that brittle sweet?_

But then, Toru-san bit the stick on his mouth into halves with a resounding _CRUNCH!_ Taka flinched and watched in _horror_ as the half of pocky landed on the cold concrete floor, just inches away from his sneakers.

_Holy shit!_

he let out a frustrated gasp, how dare this man to litter in the front of his door?!

_I just hope that Toru-san would sweep that off later!_

“Let’s go inside. I’m already freezing here,” Taka’s gaze snapped towards the taller man. He couldn’t believe it!

_How could this brat have the audacity to order me around in my own house?!_

“W-why,” Taka really whished that he didn’t stammered nervously, “Why would I obey you? What are you doing here anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be on your way home or something?”

He really tried to be obstinate against Toru-san— _I really did_ —but just looking at the blank eyes of the guitarist, who’s staring down at him with an unamused look on his face, Taka felt his legs instantly melting in a pile of icky goo.

_Just—just look at his face, dammit!_

_And he’s too tall! How am I supposed to fight him with my puny little height?!_

...

Well, at least, he tried, he solemnly thought to himself. He then faced the door and inserted the key to the unit, “I can’t fucking believe that you’re threatening me with a stick of pocky!” he muttered, cursing every Shinto god he knows for his horrible, _horrible_ luck.

“ _Hai, hai_ ,” Toru-san condescendingly said behind him, forming a barricade with his larger body so that the vocalist won’t be able to run like he did earlier.

_And why would I even run away? This is my house!_

When the lock finally relented, Taka pushed the door open and rushed inside—with Toru-san quickly following him.

“I could get you arrested for this!” he gestured to the innocent floor.

“You had your chance earlier, Taka-san,” the younger locked the door with a resounding _CLICK_ before facing him properly, “But you botched it, and you’re gonna regret it at this moment,” Toru-san then suddenly grinned a bit... _maniacally_ , “big time.”

Taka shuddered at the scary aura that practically oozes out of this younger teen. He suddenly felt the fear for his life. What if Toru-san has actually reached the peak of his obsession? What if Toru-san would actually kidnap him, force him to sing for his (still) unnamed band and it Taka refused to cooperate, dismember his body, chop it and feed it to the fish in Tokyo Bay?!

...

He’s not sure if fishes can _actually_ eat human flesh but the fuck if he cares!

Holy shit, this man is _totally_ crazy!

“ _A-ano saa_ —,”

“Why did you ran earlier?” Taka cringed at the man’s deeper voice, expecting him to just lash out and scream his intestines out to the vocalist. But instead, Toru-san’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper, and full of emotions like of disappointment...and was that...hurt?

”Never mind that, why didn’t you come to the practice yesterday?” Toru-san sounded exhausted, “You told me last week that—,”

“I’ll think about it,” Taka supplied in irritation, massaging his temples as he felt a massive headache coming, “I told you that I’ll think about it, remember? I didn’t completely agree on coming to your practice. It’s your fault for assuming things!”

Toru-san stared down at him with clenched jaws. Taka can hear the sound of the pocky box being crushed and crumpled under the guitarist’s strong grip. He just wishes that Toru-san won’t do the same to his neck or something.

A stained silence ensued between them. It is still cold inside the unit since he wasn’t able to switch the heater on. The room is dark, but not dark enough to miss the angry glint on Toru-san’s eyes.

“Look, Toru-san,” he tried changing tactics, purposely lowering the pitch of his voice into a melodious and near to crying tone, “Aren’t you getting tired of this? You can’t follow me around forever. You should, I don’t know,” he shrugged, the exhaustion of the day’s events suddenly creeping up in his system, “move on, find another vocalist—someone who’ll be more than happy to be your—WHAT THE FUCK—!” he hissed when Toru-san suddenly lunged at him, pushing him into the cold wall by his shoulders, ‘That hurts, you bastard!”

“If you’re not really interested then why did you told me that you’ll think about it?!” Toru-san snarled at him, “Why did you get my hopes up? I already told you that you’re the only one who can be our vocalist, and that I won’t be stopping in persuading you, no matter how long, remember?!”

“The hell!” Taka grunted, trying and failing to push the larger man away, “Are you still in your fucking right mind? Why would you still want a stupid, rude, moody, despicable and a _lying piece of shit_ like ME in your band?! I’m tired of this! Just find another one okay?! I’ll even help you sear— _MPH!_ ”

Taka’s almond-shaped eyes widened like the size of the fucking universe when Toru’s chapped and strawberry-flavoured lips smashed against his freezing ones.

_A-re._

_A-re?!!!_

_Matte, matte, matte!!!_

Even before Taka could push the younger away, Toru-san is already leaning back, staring down at him with a straight face. Not even a trace of blush nor embarrassment can be found on the man’s ever-stoic face.

“You need to learn to shut up, Taka-san,” he huskily said, shocking the elder to the core, “And you also need to be confident with yourself. You’re _amazing_ , your voice is the best I’ve ever heard so far, and though you try to be a shitty person, I know that deep, deep, deep, _deep_ inside, you’re still a good and kind-hearted person.”

...

Taka can feel his cheeks—no, his _entire face_ —warming up as his blood decided to rush upwards, making him dizzy and somewhat suffocating with the sudden heat flushing into his system.

How...

How the fuck can Toru-san say those things with a straight face?!

And more importantly _, how can he talk like that as if he didn’t just kissed me? As if he didn’t just kissed a guy?!_

Taka really, really prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole, right now.

He was about to retort and defend what was left of his dignity, when Toru-san spoke again, now with a softer and gentler tone.

“I don’t know what you’ve been through to make act like this but...but I can tell that you’re not happy in your current situation,” Taka opened his freshly kissed— _gah!_ —lips— _which still tastes like strawberries by the way_ —to deny that but Toru-san didn’t even let him to utter even a single word, “I think that you deserve better, and I know that you want it, too; but you have to take the first step in order to change, in order to be happy. There’s so much things to do in this world, so many talented and wonderful people to meet, food to eat, music to create, songs to sing,” warm, calloused hands gently traced his jaws, making Taka stiffen, “ _We_ can do all of these— _you_ can do all of these... you just... you just have to get out of your shell, okay?”

Taka wanted to shake his head in denial.

He wanted to slap that warm hands away from his feverish skin.

He wanted to curse this stupid, _stupid_ man to death; cuss and swear until his throat becomes raw and sore from screaming—but he didn’t.

_He couldn’t._

Because, for the first time in his life, for the first time in the years he spent in darkness, he’d seen a flickering light—a glimmer of hope. He spent years and years by crawling and getting lost in that dark tunnel—he even thought that he’s fine with that, that he’s already so fucked up, so messed up that nothing— _no one_ —can help him anymore—well, until Toru-san came along and did the fucking opposite.

For the first time—in all these years—he felt the loneliness, the emptiness, and this sudden desire to be wanted, to be yearned for.

He sniffled, fingers curling into the hem of his clothes, as he looked down on his shoes.

“I...I...” he blinked the tears away, not wanting to show weakness in front of this person, “If I... If I agree on joining you...what would I get? What... what can you give to me in return?”

Toru-san retreated his hands at that. He remained silent for a while before answering, “I don’t have enough money, nor possessions...”

Taka’s head snapped up at that—why would I even want that?!—and met Toru-san’s intense black orbs, “but if you join us, I’ll promise that you won’t have to sing with your head casted downwards _anymore_ , Taka-san...”

Takahiro felt the glob of wet, fat tears formed in the corner of his eyes after hearing that.

The things he wanted to _hear for so long_.

The things he wanted to _do for so, so fucking long_.

It’s now within his reach—within his arm’s reach.

_Don’t let it go._

Don’t let it slip away.

“G-give,” he sniffled, burying the lower part of his face in his scarf, “Give me a week,” he watched as Toru-san’s tensed shoulders sagged in relief, “ _Yakusoku-desu_. I’ll come to you in a week.”

Don’t let _him_ go.


	8. Nichijou Evolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taka finally met the band~!
> 
>  
> 
> "At this rate, is it okay?   
> Are you really happy to be with me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammar errors. Taka's foul mouth-again.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I wish it was mine, but it certainly isn't!

Toru hid his massive yawn behind his fist, his eyes sleepily blinking the tears away.

That was a week ago.

After many times of following Taka-san around, and insisting that he join their band, the vocalist finally relented— _albeit reluctantly_. Toru can still vividly remember the events of that night—how Taka-san looked _totally_ horrified when he saw him waiting in front of the unit; how Taka-san was easily scared by a stick of _pocky_ ; how Taka-san express his self-depreciation; how Taka-san broke down in front of him; how Taka-san blushed like a ripe tomato when he silenced him with a kiss, and; how Taka-san finally— _fucking finally_ —agreed after Toru’s _heart-wrenching and soul-crushing_ speech.

Speaking of the kiss...

_I really thought that Taka-san would slap the shit out of me after that, but I guess he’s too shocked to even say a word, eh?_

Toru’s body unconsciously swayed in tune of his guitar’s rhythm. His fingers strummed the fine strings, hand gliding and pressing over the frets effortlessly. He was too immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the three curious pair of eyes watching his every move.

He really didn’t plan on kissing the older one, but he can’t think of any way to shut up Taka-san’s blabbering that night. He really can’t just punch the shit out of Taka-san’s face ( _even though his fists were itching to do so_ ); so he just settled on kissing him—like the things he saw on _shoujo_ manga and TV dramas.

The kiss was too quick—Toru didn’t even felt _anything_. It didn’t even matter if Taka-san was a guy like him because as far as Toru’s concerned—he can’t really feel attraction towards anyone—be it a guy or a girl.

_So no, it doesn’t matter at all._

What matters the most is that their practice session is almost over and not even’s Taka-san’s shadow can be found in the area.

_Don’t tell me that he tricked me again?!_

He gritted his teeth as he strummed the strings in a harsher manner.

_Ugh, if he doesn’t show up tonight, I’ll hunt him down the first thing in the morning and drag his sorry ass—_

“ _Ano_...” Toru was suddenly pulled of out of his murderous thoughts when the door of the studio slowly creaked open—revealing a Peruvian hat covering the familiar mop of dark chocolate curls, “ _Sumimasen_ , is Toru-san here?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Everyone automatically stopped playing their instruments when a stranger opened the door of the rehearsal studio. Each of them has this “ _who-the-hell-is-this-guy_ ” look on their face, especially Ryota who _subtly_ hid himself behind Alex-senpai upon seeing the new comer.

_Oh, shit! Another nuisance has come!_

“You’re late, Taka-san!” Toru-nii said excitedly which made the three widened their eyes.

_This is the vocalist Toru-nii is stalking?!_

“I would be on fucking damn time if someone,” the said person huffed and glared at the band leader, “just fetched me from the station! I got lost, you jerk!

_How rude!_

_Why is this tiny teen talking like that to Toru-nii? Didn’t they know each other for only, what, a month or so?_

_And more importantly, why is Toru-nii allowing that midget to bully him!_

He looked around to see if everyone has the same bewildered expression as him, but Alex-senpai merely looked amused while watching the interaction between the two and Yu-senpai is staring at this Taka-san as if he’s figuring out how to solve a 2000-piece puzzle.

_Am I the only one who’s bothered by this?!_

Feeling defeated, Ryota turned to take a glimpse at his Toru-nii. He froze on what he saw on the usually blank face of his childhood friend.

It was...

It was the _first time_ Ryota saw his pseudo-brother smile like that...like he won the biggest prize on the lottery or something. Ryota frowned, he haven’t smiled like that even when we’re still in HEADS!

To think that Toru-nii can smile like he’s the _happiest person_ alive on the planet just because a certain _someone_ walked into their practice session...

Ryota narrowed his eyes at the midget (while still hiding behind Alex-senpai) and scrutinize the vocalist from head to toe—Taka-san’s clothes are black and studded with metals, he wore a thick and undoubtedly expensive watch, he even has a silver necklace, and he wore this weird winter hat even though he’s already inside the room.

_He’s body seems to be covered with gold! He’s practically shinning!_

What kind of life is this chibi living up until now?!

At that very moment, Ryota decided that he didn’t want to have anything to do with this guy.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru chuckled happily at the older’s opening statement. _Wait_ , he’s not happy that Taka-san is now all grumpy and pouting because he got lost ( _even though he can’t be sure if someone can actually get lost for that long_ )—Toru is happy because he had dreamt for this moment to come for days and weeks since meeting the vocalist.

“ _Gomen, gomen_ ,” he apologized, walking closer to the smaller teen, easily noticing that the older is actually nervous even though he’s glaring daggers at him, “I thought that you’re gonna call me if you got lost or something.”

“I _would,_ if I actually have your number,” Taka-san huffed making Toru winced inwardly. He glanced apologetically to Alex-senpai, who just raised a brow in amusement.

“ _Hai, ha_ i,” he said in defeat before facing everyone, “Guys, this is the one I’m talking about. From now on, he will be our band vocalist.”

“ _Hai._..” Taka-san agreed in a totally forced voice, “I’m Morita Takahiro,” Toru glanced at the vocalist in confusion.

There was it again. Taka-san introduced himself as a Morita again, not Moriuchi.

_Why is that?_

Taka-san made a deep bow to the other band members, “ _Yoroshiku onegaishimasu_!” he said before straightening up.

No one spoke as a heavy tension filled the atmosphere. The tension in the air was so thick that someone could probably cut it with a knife. Even Taka-san is subtly shooting him an “ _I-know-this- is-a-bad -idea –you-shitty_ —“ kind of look.

Toru awkwardly cleared his throat and broke the silence by introducing the members to the vocalist.

“These are our co-members,” he said, “They’re all in high school like us. This is Alex-senpai, he’s a graduating student and he works as a part-time model. He’s our lead guitarist.”

Taka nodded and bowed to the _tall-as-a-motherfucking-pole_ and foreign-looking teenager, “ _Yoroshiku_!”

“ _Osu!_ ” Alex-senpai greeted back, “I’m Alexander Reimon Onizawa. Toru had said a _lot of things_ about you, _Mori-chan_.”

Toru almost yelped when Taka-san’s sneakers _accidentally_ stepped onto his own foot—hard.

_It’s not my fault that Alex-senpai gives you a weird nickname!_ He glared at the smaller man who’s forcing himself to smile to the lead guitarist.

“ _A lot of good things, huh_...”

“Wait! Your name’s that long, Alex-senpai?!” Yu asked in bewilderment, “How many letters was it?!”

Alex-senpai blandly smiled, “Why don’t you start counting, Yu-chan?”

“Ehhhh...that’s a pain in the ass!”

Toru jerked a thumb towards the happiest member of the band, “That’s our drummer, Koyanagi Yu. The one who wanted to be an actor.”

Taka nodded while Yu flashed his wide grin, “Yu-desu!”

“ _Yoroshiku_!”

“ _Nee, nee, nee_ , Mori-chan!” Yu chanted like a hyperactive child, making Taka-san cringed beside him, “Have we met before? I think I’ve already seen you somewhere...?”

“Me?” Taka’s voice was higher than usual, “ _Muri, muri_! It’s just probably your imagination, ahahahahaha!” he chuckled nervously.

_He’s hiding something,_ Toru thought bitterly as he watched the vocalist nervously fiddled with the hem of his clothes.

_Not actually lying but he’s not telling me everything either._

“Sure?”

“ _Positive_ ,” Taka-san nodded in a final manner, leaving no more room for arguments with the drummer.

“Hmmm,” Yu shrugged before leaning back to his drum set. Toru noticed Taka-san breathing a sigh of relief when the drummer let go of the topic.

“And lastly,” he strained his neck to look for the youngest member of the band— _wait, why is he hiding behind Alex-senpai?_ —

“There’s Ryota. You remember him?”

Taka-san hesitantly nodded, “The shy and youngest one, right?”

“Yeah...” he glanced at Ryota who didn’t make any effort to greet the newcomer. Toru is aware that the bassist is pretty nervous about meeting new people, but couldn’t he make any extra effort to show some courteousness to the vocalist, at the very least?

 “Ryota,” he called, silently warning the youngest with his subtle glare, “say _something._ ”

The bassist groaned before he reluctantly moved forward and bowed without even looking at the vocalist’s face, “Ryota-desu! _Yoroshiku_!” and then, he immediately scrambled behind Alex-senpai again like a child on his first day in kindergarten.

Toru sighed, making a mental note to talk to Ryota about this attitude later.

“So, _Mori-chan_ ,” Alex-senpai crossed his arms and flashed his complete _bishounen_ smile at the vocalist, “What are you up to before agreeing to Toru in joining us?”

“Ehh...to...” Taka-san scratched the back of his head nervously, “I was in this cover band, called Chivalry of Music for around uh...a year? I’m their lead vocal...or something?”

Yu perked up at that, “Cover band? What’s that?”

Taka-san looked at Toru, wide eyes silently pleading for help so he answered Yu in place of the vocalist.

“Cover bands sing songs of other bands, mostly famous and Western ones. But Taka-san’s band also performed original songs, isn’t that right, Taka-san?”

“ _H-hai_ ,” he nodded, “We performed two originals during our first live. They’re all ballads though. They aren’t really that great but it’s better than constantly singing other’s song, _deshou_?” he flinched when he noticed that everyone’s attention is on him, “...or _somethin_ g,” he mumbled.

“ _Darou?_ ” Toru said a bit more excitedly; totally different from his usual gruff countenance. They probably have not seen the band leader as enthusiastic as that.

Taka-san even subtly _inched away_ from him, probably scared that Toru might pass him his exuberance like a transferrable disease, “H-hai...”

“That’s nice,” Alex-senpai commented, “And before that?”

“What do you mean?” is Taka-san’s rude and instant reply which made Toru wants to bang his head onto the nearest wall, “What’s it to you? I did a lot of things. Various things. Things that are actually _none of your business anymore_ —,”

“ _Taka-san_.”

“Oops,” the smaller male instantly tensed at Toru’s stern and warning tone, “ _Gomen_.”

Toru sighed, already feeling that this meeting will be nothing but a disaster. He wishes that everyone would be just as happy as him for having this amazing person as their vocalist. But no, Alex-senpai kept on asking intrusive questions, Yu kept on grinning like an idiot, and Ryota keeps on suddenly being the most silent member of the band.

“Why don’t you listen to our music, first? Then tell us what you think of it afterwards?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The moment Takahiro saw those judging eyes from Toru-san’s band members, he decided— _without a doubt_ —that joining the band is a _bad-fucking-idea_.

He was too damn nervous but he actually tried to rein it in. He entered the room as _demure_ as possible but when everyone’s eyes suddenly went “ _who-the-hell-is-this-guy_ ”; his shy, almond shaped eyes instantly went glaring at everyone—especially to Toru-san, who is the perpetrator of this shitty meeting.

_J-just look at the band’s reaction!_

Everyone, except Toru-san, emits this hostile aura against him. Alex looked like a _mega_ -pervert; Yu bounces like a hyperactive child with ADHD (he’s also somewhat dangerous since Taka can tell that he’s suspecting something), and the worst is Ryota who openly displayed his animosity towards Taka.

He could’ve dashed out the moment he entered the studio, but then there’s Toru-san who visibly lit up at the mere sight of him, and just that alone will probably make Taka guilty for the rest of his fucked up life if he actually did left earlier.

And now...

Taka glanced around as he watched the band play their songs, one after another. The Chivalry of Music—the band he’s been with recently—mostly focuses on ballads with piano and clear acoustic guitars. When Toru-san’s band started playing earlier, he suddenly felt the link to his favourite band—RIZE—through the noisy punk style. It was the closest feeling to the image of the band he admired.

However, as the high of excitement subdues, Taka realized that there’s _really_ nothing notable and unique to Toru-san’s band’s music, except that it really gives him these _massive pounding in his head_. Alex is the only one who can play quite well, followed by Toru-san himself...then the rest is just...pure _chaos_.

He winced at the screeching sound of amplifiers as the last song— _thankfully_ —ended. Toru-san, looked up at him expectantly, ignoring the beads of sweat trickling down his face.

“So, what can you say about the songs, Taka-san?”

Takahiro rolled his eyes, wanting to get this stupid music end as sooner as possible.

“What do you want to hear from me? The truth or the thing that will make you all happy?”

Ryota instantly reacted to that, “Why _you_ —,”

“Ryota,” Alex and Toru-san warned at the same time. It was the lead guitarist, however, to be the first one to ask him to continue.

“Kindly give us your honest opinion, then, Mori-chan,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Taka gritted his teeth in annoyance, pushing down the urge to punch that pretty face, “Well, for starters, all of your songs _suck_ , except for the second one.”

“Wow,” Yu blinked, “ _Harsh_ , dude.”

“It’s the truth. You want the truth, right?” he hissed, emphasizing every word he says, “It’s just that, everything is a mess. The guitar is swallowing up the bass and the drum beats are so lame that I can’t really tell if the drummer plays it like he meant it.”

“Okay, now _you fucking_ —,”

“Yu!” Toru-san snarled at the drummer, “Calm your shits—,”

“And that opinion comes from your various experiences, I guess?” Alex taunted, making Taka’s blood instantly boil.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Taka-san—,”

“No! You asked for my opinion first, and now that I’m telling you, you’re brushing it off instead of accepting them as a constructive criticism like a good band should—and _you_!” he whirled around, pointing his finger to the shell-shocked and pale-looking Toru-san, “I didn’t come here to be made fun around! I didn’t sign up for this shit! You told me that I—I—argh!” he grunted in frustration, his voice cracking up a bit, before he turned around to walked out of the studio.

He even heard Ryota’s voice—

_“Is that the vocalist you’re talking about, Toru-nii, the one you’re stalking for weeks—the one you said with awesome talent? Isn’t he just full of airs—“_

—before he slammed the door shut.

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t fuming.

No, _not at all_.

He’s...

He was livid— _enraged_ —downright _humiliated_.

He stalked outside, the harsh winter air smacked on his face like a giant, cold grubby hand _. I need to get out of here._

He needs to go away—far, far away—but _where_?

He doesn’t have a home to return to anymore. He left everything—everyone he knew—just to follow that damn apathetic asshole ( _yes, I’m talking about you, Toru-san_ )’s advice.

Look where it brought him.

Alone and cold in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by uncaring strangers.

Taka should’ve known that Toru-san’s promises were too good to be true. He should’ve known that promises are hollow words—always, _always_ meant to be broken.

He let out a frustrated sigh, putting his hands into the pocket of his jeans as he stared at the starless night sky.

_I bet that Toru-san hates me now._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah. here comes the "Mori-chan" nickname~  
> Dunno who actually started calling Taka with that cute name but I think Alex would be the one since he's the oldest in the group? LOL
> 
> And Ryota's infamous first impression of our dear vocalist!


	9. San-san Dama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "please don't think you are lost and you're alone  
> there is somebody watching you  
> don't be afraid to overcome yourself, yeah"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: ONE OK ROCK is still not mine.

After the rude shits he pulled earlier, Taka would be more surprised if Toru-san would still chase after his pathetic ass.

_He’s gonna choose his band—his friends—over me._

And then, he’ll be alone again.

Taka would be alone, even after taking the huge first step—after attempting to get out of his shell— like Toru-san had asked him to do.

“ _Uwaaaaah_!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, making the birds in the nearby park flew in distress.

He doesn’t care if everyone’s probably seeping at this ungodly hour. He doesn’t care if he got hauled into the police station again for causing public disturbance in the middle of the night—all he care about is this _twisting_ ache in his chest, squeezing the beating muscle there into a thousand pieces—the painful feeling of being left behind, being _cheated_ by, and by being _betrayed_.

“ _Kuso! Baka, baka, baka!!! Ore wa baka! Toru-san no yarou! Kuso_ mph—!” his eyes widened the size of saucers when a hand shot from behind him, clamping oton his mouth and effectively shutting him up.

_Who the fuck—_

He panicked—as he tried to turn and look over his shoulder—what if someone from the yakuza wants to kidnap him and sell his organs in the black market—like he feared when he first met Toru-san?!

_Shit—I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die—_

“ _Mou!_ Shut up, Taka-san!” the familiar baritone screamed just by his ear, delivering a cold feeling that ran down his spine, “You’re gonna wake up the dead!”

“T-toru-san?!!”

Taka felt all the tension drained from his body as he recognized that deep voice. He instantly stopped struggling as he tried to calm his breathing. He panted, thinking how it would be easier to replenish his depraved lungs with oxygen if Toru-san would just remove his hand from his mouth—

That’s when he noticed it.

Taka felt the whole world _stopped_ spinning.

Suddenly, he is hyperaware of their current _predicament_. Toru-san’s strong left arm was wrapped around his mid-section, probably to prevent him from escaping; while his right hand is still on his mouth. Taka can feel the warmth on his back, the thundering heart beat from Toru’s chest and his harsh breathing on Taka’s nape.

It was...rather _awkward._

And kind of _compromising_?

He just wishes that Toru-san’s friends _weren’_ t following their leader because Taka would surely die of _mortification_.

Taka didn’t know how long they stayed in that position—nobody’s moving, nobody’s talking—and all that Taka can hear is Toru-san’s laboured breathing and his very own madly beating heart.

“Have...have you calmed down, Taka-san?”

Taka gulped and nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when Toru-san slowly pried his hands off his mouth—his left hand, however, is still clutching on the vocalist’s jacket.

“How can you even run that fast with those small legs— _itai!_ ” Toru-san winced in pain as Taka roughly kicked the taller teen's shin, “ _Gomen, gomen_ —shit, that seriously hurts!”

“The next time you say something about my height I’m gonna fuck you up so bad you’’ even regret being born—,”

“ _Hai, hai_! Shhh!” Toru-san pleaded, nervously looking around as if the entire police force will suddenly appear to arrest them or something, “Don’t shout, Taka-san. I don’t want to spend the night in the police station, okay?”

Taka huffed, and noticed the hand on his jacket; he snapped at the taller teen again, “Let go of my jacket!”

“No! You’ll run away!”

“I won’t!”

“You would!” Toru-san sighed exasperatedly, “Look Taka-san, I want to talk to you, without you screaming your _precious voice_ hoarse or kicking me or reacting aggressively—,” Toru-san effortlessly evaded the punch he directed on his emotionless face, “—like _that_. Come on, let’s get somewhere with shade. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, yeah?”

“I won’t go back to the studio!” Taka grumpily said, like a child throwing a tantrum to his father.

“I know, I know,” Toru-san let go of his jacket, his hands gently grabbing his wrist instead, “Let’s go to a _kombini_. I’ll treat you tea. Is that alright?”

Taka is, _again_ , hyperaware of the warm hand enveloping of his bony wrist to even argue against the guitarist, so he just nodded and mumbled a soft “m’kay,” making Toru-san grinned in satisfaction.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru was kind of glad and relieved to see that Taka-san didn’t ran away while he’s busy ordering stuffs in the counter. He tiredly grinned when he saw the older, sitting on the nook facing the street across the glass wall.

“Here,” he put the cup of steaming green tea in front of the vocalist, “I don’t know if this is the same as the evil drink you served me in your house, though.”

“Anything not sweet is appreciable,” Taka-san murmured, not even gracing him with a glance nor glare, “ _Arigato_.”

Toru made a noncommittal grunt before sitting on the stool beside Taka-san. He looked down on his own cup of black coffee. It’s almost dawn anyways and he didn’t have school later so he guessed that it’s fine to indulge himself with the bitter, caffeinated drink.

He watched his reflection on the dark liquid, wondering what went wrong earlier. He though that everything would go smoothly—he would introduce Taka-san to the band and everyone would be happy and pumped out because finally, they’d have their own vocalist..

But _no_ —

Nothing close to that happened, well, except the exact _opposite_ of it.

He even had to dismiss the others rudely—especially when Ryota blatantly questioned, not only Toru’s judgement, but also Taka-san’s singing abilities.

_“Let’s call it a day,” he said, hastily zipping up his guitar into its case, “I’ll explain the details later. So just you know, I’m very disappointed to you,” he gave the youngest member, Ryota, who’s clutching his bass guitar as if someone would snatch it away from him, “especially you, Ryota,” he said before going after the vocalist._

He sighed, massaging his temples. His head is pounding and it’s about to explode any moment because of too much thinking.

_I probably used up all my remaining brain cells_ , Toru bitterly thought.

What will happen now?

_How can I convince Taka-san to stay? How can I convince the others to let Taka-san stay?_

If he only knew that forming a band would be this stressful, he probably won’t even fantasize of forming one—not even in his wildest dreams.

He was too lost in his miserable thoughts that he failed to notice that Taka-san is watching him attentively through their reflection on the glass wall.

“Must’ve been hard, huh?” Taka-san said, finally breaking the comfortable silence between them. Toru glanced at the smaller one, watching how the vocalist nervously clasped his hands around the paper cup, “Hmmm? _Nani ga_?”

“Being the band leader,” Taka-san shrugged, “I bet you’re getting torn between calming your friends down and chasing after a _good-for-nothing_ idiot like me—,”

Toru’s brows knitted in confusion at that.

_Why is Taka-san always saying that?_

Saying things as if he thinks so little of himself?

“—which led me to the question: _why are you even here_? Aren’t you supposed to be consoling your friends or something?”

Toru’s frown deepened upon hearing the tone of disbelief from the vocalist.

_He thinks so lowly of himself that he can’t even believe that I ran after him..._

“ _Nee_ , Taka-san,” he said, turning his chair to face the smaller teen. Taka-san visibly flinched, “What did I promised you, if you decided to join our band?”

“That you’re not gonna smoke around me?” Taka lifted an unsure gaze to the guitarist.

...

Toru’s face remained stoic, totally giving off an unimpressed aura.

“ _Mou!_ ” Taka-san rolled his eyes in defeat, “You told me that I won’t have to sing while looking down ever again—there—are you happy now?”

 “ _Sukoshi dake_ ,” he grinned, “Why are you here, Taka-san?”

“What do you mean by that?!” the vocalist huffed, glaring at him with all his might, “You told me that— _that_ —,”

“So, you came here because you believe me?” Toru wanted the older to say yes—to admit that he trusted the guitarist’s words—that he took the first step himself because he wanted to follow Toru.

Instead, Taka-san shrugged, looking like a lost and confused child, “Apparently, yes...but,” he bit his lower lip anxiously, “Would it still matter now? Your band hates me, you’re getting tired of me and I’m still the bitchy, stupid, good for nothing beside my stupid voice jer—,”

“Shhh!”

Before Toru can clearly think of his actions, both of his hands have  already shot upwards, cupping the elder’s face and forcing Taka-san to look directly at him.

Which would be a lot _easier_ of Taka-san didn’t avert his gaze away from Toru-san’s as if really, _really_ don’t want to look at the guitarist’s face.

That _kinda_ hurt, but Toru ignored it, especially after seeing how Taka-san’s eyes are getting glassy and gassier as droplets of unshed tears threatened to fall any moment from now. The vocalist bit his lip, determined not to grace Toru with a single word nor even a piece of his usual cussing.

Toru watched, clearly mesmerized as Taka-san’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in an attempt to swallow the tears, the whimpers, the _weakness._

“D-don’t say that, Taka,” Toru said, conveniently dropping the honorifics, “You believe in me, right? You still believe in me?”

Taka’s gaze automatically darted everywhere—everywhere _except_ to him—which made him somewhat pissed off and desperate to catch the attention of those almond-shaped eyes.

_Say that you believe me..._

Toru idly traced the other man’s jawline, not caring if someone—if everyone could see them like this. It’s not their business anyway. If Toru wants to sooth the vocalist, if Toru wants to make his anxiousness and insecurities away, he’d _do_ it— _in_ _any way I want it._

_Just tell me that you still believe in me..._

He silently— _desperately_ – pleaded.

He watched as Taka slowly, _oh-so slowly_ looked up at him with those glassy, unsure eyes—searching for any traces of lie and malice in his own pair of orbs—

_...and I’ll make this happen._

—before slowly nodding in affirmation, “ _H-hai_.”

Toru breathed in relief, all the tension that had built up in his body instantly slipping away. His face morphed into a brighter one; a small, relieved and satisfied smile forming on his thin lips.

“Good,” his thumbs wiped the droplets of unshed tears away from Taka’s red-rimmed eyes, “That’s good. I’ll talk to them later. And maybe we should practice, with just the two of us, some of our songs? So that they can hear you sing next time? We’re gonna make this happen, so just believe in me, okay?”

Taka sniffed like a child before nodding again, a bit more furiously than before. Upon seeing that the vocalist had finally calmed down, and that Toru somehow prevented their band from disbanding this early, Toru finally retracted his hands and put it around the cup of his coffee.

Taka did the same, grabbing his own cup with both hands before taking a sip of the probably now-lukewarm green tea. Toru noticed that the once energetic movements of the vocalist had ceased, turning into somewhat more mellow.

_He’s probably tired._

Toru glanced at his watch. It’s almost 4:00 in the morning.

_No wonder why Taka is probably exhausted._

The trains would be in operations in an hour, so they should get moving to avoid the rush hour later. He decided that he’ll talk to the band after he end Taka off the station.

He glanced at the vocalist, “Hey, Taka—,” he paused, barely remembering to add the honorific, “— _san_. Let’s go to the train station so that you can avoid the rush hour later, yeah?”

The vocalist jolted on his seat, his sleepy eyes suddenly went wide awake at Toru’s suggestion, “Hu—wa— _why_?!”

“Uh, so you can go home for the moment?”

Toru felt lost. Does Taka want to go with him in confronting the band today? Right now? Would Taka be able to confront someone—let alone walk outside—with this exhaustion?

“Oh,” Taka blinked, multiple times in realization, “ _Ano nee_...” Taka-san’s voice suddenly change, like a child trying to evade a scolding, “About that...there’s a tiny, i _tsy bitsy_ , problem, Toru-san...”

Toru’s brow arched in confusion, “ _Hai?_ ” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous as the vocalist kept his words hanging.

Taka fidgeted nervously on his eat—fiddling with his hat—before he sighed and stared right through Toru’s soul.

“C-can I crash at your place for today, Toru-san?”


	10. Moshimo Taiyou Ga Nakunatta Toshitara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taka's sleepover.
> 
>  
> 
> "you're on my side when I wake up in the morning  
> with the light from the window  
> hair the wrong way from sleep"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: ONE OK ROCK is not mine.

_This is ridiculous._

Taka groaned as he struggled to climb one of the Sakura trees lining beside Toru-san’s dorm building. Apparently, no one is allowed to enter the building except for the tenants, and despite Taka’s smaller stature, Toru-san can’t really just put him into his pockets or _something_ to smuggle him inside the building.

He’s hungry, he’s sleepy and he’s exhausted as fuck that he can probably sleep like a log for a week after this shit. He huffed, air puffs escaping his freezing lips, as he heave himself up to the branch nearest to Toru-san’s window.

Toru-san explained earlier that it’s probably the only way Taka-san can enter his room. Taka doesn’t really have any choice since he doesn’t want to sleep in the streets nor on the cold bench of the train station so he agreed.

He agreed like an _obedient little idiot_ because that’s what you do when you’re stressed out of your mind and desperate for a _warm bed and blankets_.

He crawled towards the end of the branch, wincing as it slumped under his weight. He considers himself light but even a toddler can make this branch snap like a fucking stick if he stayed on it for a bit longer. He just wished that Toru-san is already on his room and opening his damn window or Taka would definitely pull a James Bond _move_ on the younger’s window.

_And by James Bond move, I mean by jumping onto it, hoping that it will break under his weight, not caring if the glass pane would shatter into thousands of pieces._

He know that he really should not reminisce while _literally_ hanging off a branch, but Toru-san is surely taking his _sweet time_ on opening the window and Taka  is _slightly_ seeing his death a few meters below him, so he just shrugged, remembering how he ended up on this damn tree in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

“Crash at my place?” Toru-san frowned, his large eyes blinking down at Taka in confusion, “Why?”

“Why not?” Taka retorted, not looking at the man, “I’ve let you stayed at my place when it’s raining cats and dogs a few days ago, right? _Is it too much to ask_?” he asked. He really didn’t want to make Toru-san guilty, nor blackmail him or something, but he doesn’t have a choice. It’s this or the cold gang chairs in the train station.

Toru-san, as expected, looked guilty as fuck, “No! It’s not that, I would gladly let you stay in my dorm room, _even if you have to climb through my windows_ , but—,”

“WHAT—,”

“—what I want to know is why? Did something happen in your unit? Or is there someone harassing you? Stalking you?”

Taka’s brow arched at that, “Aren’t _you_ the one stalking me?”

“It’s called a ‘ _persuasive-tactic’_ , Taka-san,” he said with a straight face, gesturing for the smaller man to explain, “So, why?”

Taka scratched the back of his head. He felt that it was the right thing to do yesterday, but now that he’s thinking about t, it was somewhat foolish to actually leave everything behind, huh? Yeah. He snatched the tassels of his Peruvian hat and rolled it on his fingers, “ _Ano nee_ , my father once told me that if I want to do something, it’s either I give all of myself for it or absolutely do nothing. So when I decided that I will, uhm, join your club...?” he scrunched up his nose, looking at Toru-san, embarrassment flowing into his veins, watching as the guitarist’s usually dead eyes lit up in excitement, “...I quit my band. So, yeah.”

He ignored how Toru’s face visibly lit up at his news, “So uh... they’re threatening you or what?”

“ _Nani?! Ie, Ie_!” he shook his head and flailed his hands, “They’re not even surprised that I was quitting. They’re not even serious with the band, I guess? It’s not like I’m irreplaceable or something, _hahah_ a,” he laughed bitterly before lowering his hands on his lap, “I decided that If I’m gonna join you, I should stay in here. I quit my job and stopped my contract with my apartment. I left my things with the moving company, and I was supposed to search for a new unit around here but I got lost and the rest is...” he shrugged, his shoulders slumping at his own stupidity.

Seconds, and even minutes, passed before Toru-san spoke. He was probably thinking of how to _kindly_ say that Taka is a _complete idiot_ , that’s why it took him minutes to formulate his words. Or something.

“So,” he said with a gruff voice, “you’re basically homeless now?”

_That’s what I just said, idiot._

“Yeah...”

“I’m glad,” Taka’s eyes snapped towards the guitarist at that, giving Toru-san an _“are-you-fucking-kidding-me”_ kind of look, “No, no! I’m not glad that you’re homeless. I’m just happy that you’ve finally decided to join us, and even left everything for us! I’m so grateful to you right now!”

Taka smiled dryly, “Yeah? And I would be really _grateful_ to you if you’ll let me stay in your place, even just for a day until I find a unit for me,” he bluntly said, making the younger blush in embarrassment. Toru-san immediately stooped up, taking his bag and guitar case with him as he did so.

“Of course, of course!” he grinned, “Anything for our vocalist!”

* * *

 

 

So, that’s how Taka ended up here— _perched on a tree_ —freezing in the December air. Seconds later, the window in from of his branch opened, revealing a somewhat “ _too_ ” happy Toru-san.

“I’m sorry, the dorm lady’s just too—,”

“ _I don’t fucking care_ ,” he hissed as he braced himself to jump that two-meter distance to Toru-san’s window, “This branch can’t handle me much longer!” he jumped off the branch’s end and gasped as his freezing fingers grabbed the windowsill, his small body hanging about ten-meters from the hard, cold ground.

Taka glared up at Toru-san who is somewhat giggling at the moment instead of, _I don’t know, helping me climb this motherfucking window?!_

“A little help here, Toru-san?” he said through clenched teeth.

“You can be an acrobat, Taka-san,” the younger said, grabbing Taka’s hands and helping him climb inside. Taka breathed in relief as his short legs reached the windowsill. He toppled inside the room, barely managing to stand up if not for Toru-san’s hands who kept him from falling right on to his face.

He blinked, his eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. Taka would really _appreciate_ if Toru-san had switched the lights on, but no—the guitarist _prioritized_ giggling over Taka’s misery earlier.

“So,” he said, his chest heaving up oxygen, before he looked up at the younger teen, “What now?”

 

* * *

 

 

The _morning_ came with the sounds of birds chirping outside, the faint sunshine filtering across the bed, and Taka’s sudden _resentment_ towards both of these things. It was freezing cold, and he doesn’t really want to get up but his body clock is saying otherwise.

Taka sleepily rolled on the bed he’s currently sleeping on. It _wasn’t_ the comfiest bed ever, but the soft mattress is already like a piece of heaven, soothing his aching muscles. The warmth enveloping his entire body is also something he is grateful, because slowly waking up in these circumstances is definitely one of the _best things_ that happened in his years of existence.

He blearily opened his eyes, blinking the sleepiness and weariness of the previous day away—only to be greeted by a smiling face of _Avril Lavigne_.

_What the fuck—_

He instantly recoiled, the shock of seeing a super famous singer was so intense that all of his sleepiness flushed down in a blink of an eye. He jerked backwards in an attempt to free his line of vision from that _American-ish_ features only to hear a –

_“Oof!”_

—pained groan behind him. He stilled and started to _silently panic_ , his almond eyes widening at the conclusion he’s reaching.

 _Someone_ ’s sleeping behind him.

Someone has been sleeping _behind_ him, spooning him like a _lover_.

And that someone sounds _awfully like_ —

“ _What the actual fuck_ ,” he heard Toru-san sleepily rasped behind him, “Stop moving around, Taka. I’m gonna fall down!”

“T-toru-san?!” Taka shrieked, like a girl, before shooting up into a sitting position, his back leaning flat onto Avril Lavigne’s smiling face. His horrified eyes look down at Toru-san— _who has one hell of a bed-hair by the way_ —who’s squinting up at him, “What the _fuck_?!”

“Yeah, what...fuck...” Toru-san grunted, before shutting his eyes again and snuggled deeper into the blanket—they’ve been sharing earlier—‘ “Sleepy...still...” he mumbled before his breath evened out, indicating that he instantly went back to sleep.

...

...

Taka looked at the mop of hair peeking from the cocoon of blankets in disbelief. He really can’t remember most of the last night’s event—heck, he can’t even remember how he ended up in Toru-san’s room in the first place!

His head feels like exploding, and the more he tried on remembering, the more painful it gets.

_Maybe I should just sleep again?_

But _where_?

Taka darted his eyes around the small dorm room—which surprisingly looks cozier than his own apartment unit. Taka can see a desk beside the bed they’re currently on, full of books and music sheets. His jacket and Peruvian hat are lying on the floor, together with what he deducted as Toru-san’s uniform. There are CD cases everywhere, magazines everywhere, a pile of chord sheets, and an old bass guitar leaning in a corner. But what caught Taka’s attention the most is that—

_The whole room is fucking full of Avril Lavigne’s posters; so much that the actual singer is the only one missing in that room!_

“ _Nee_ , Toru-san,” he said in a sickly-sweet voice as he roughly shook what looked like the guitarist’s shoulders, “ _Nee, nee_ , are you, perhaps, an Avril _Fanboy_ —,”

Toru-san grunted in frustration, violently slapping Taka’s hands away, “Fuck off!”

“Wow, you’re not really a morning person, huh?” Taka snickered, covering the half of his face with the edge of blanket, “Careful, careful, your real personality is showing—,”

One moment, Taka is looking down on Toru-san, and then, in a matter of nanoseconds, he’s already lying on his back on the floor, staring confusedly on _yet another_ Avril Lavigne’s poster on the ceiling.

Did...

_Did Toru-san just flipped me out of the fucking bed—_

“That _hurts_ you asshole!” he hissed as he slowly get into his hands and knees, his eyes glinting in frustration when he noticed that Toru-san had covered his entire body with the blanket and is now facing away from him, “Well, _good_ morning to you too! You’re such a _terrific_ host, jerk!” he spat, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

When the guitarist didn’t even made a comment of acknowledgement, Taka painstakingly stood up, wincing as his muscles practically scream in pain. Now that he had his head smashed on the cold floor, he can finally think clearly. The events of last night smoothly flowing back into his memories, well, until the part when he jumped from a tree into Toru-san’s room. He remembered asking Toru-san on what to do next, but he swears that he can’t recall anything about agreeing on sleeping with this man in a single bed.

“Maybe I collapsed due to exhaustion? That’s why I can’t remember anything?” he asked to no one in particular as he tilted his head in confusion, “Yeah, that’s probably why! Wait— _what time is it_ —,” he looked down on his watch, which is still miraculously in one piece after sleeping with it on, the clock indicating 1 in the afternoon, “The moving company! Shit!”

With no choices left, Taka _pounced_ on the human spring roll on the bed, “Toru-san!”

“Uggh! Wha—get off!” Toru-san grunted in pain, followed by a string of colourful language that Taka even thought that the guitarist is rapping some dirty songs, “What’s your problem?!”

Taka huffed as he properly straddled the younger teen’s stomach, pulling the blankets away and revealing a _totally_ stressed and frowning Toru-san. His lids almost covered his entire eyes while the skin around it are darker and more hollow than usual. His hair is rising into all directions making him look like a _heavily disgruntled porcupine_.

“ _Nee_ , I need a toothbrush. And clothes? And underwear,” he listed down his necessities, ignoring how Toru-san’s eyes rolled in exhaustion. No one seems to notice—or even care—the ridiculous and compromising predicament they’re currently in.

 “I need to find an apartment right now or else, the moving company will toss my things into the nearest dump site!”

Of course, it’s a lie, but Toru-san doesn’t need to know that.

“ _Uso_ ,” he gruffly said before sitting up—making Taka slide directly on his lap—his head nodding off as if he’s gonna fall asleep any moment from now, before he ran his fingers through his already messy hair, “You’re lying, Taka-san.”

“Eh,” Taka pouted, “I really need clothes. And underwear. And most importantly, toothbrush. And your entire bathroom, probably?” he hopefully smiled up to Toru-san, earning a glare from the younger teen, “Look, remember the time you’re pestering me around? I gave you a temporary shelter when you needed one, right? I even made you dinner! How _ungrateful_ you are, Toru-san!” he said in a fake, hurt voice.

Toru-san just weakly raised a brow at that, his hands unconsciously went to grip the vocalist’s sides,  “Huuuuh...I remember you telling me _to sleep on the floor_...”

“Well, yeah, that’s because you’re the guest, and I owned that place!”

“Uh-huh?” Taka’s eyes widened as a lazy smile slowly formed on the guitarist’s lips. He’s not gay, nor even a bisexual but damn, like totally _DAMN_ —it was one of the sexiest thing he’d ever seen—

_WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!_

_NO, NO, CHIGAU! ERASE, ERASE!_

Taka’s breathing suddenly became harsher and faster as he desperately try to keep those weird thoughts down into the deepest recesses of his stupid brain. Then suddenly, he realized how awfully close they are, how he is practically sitting on the man’s lap, how Toru-san’s warm hands lazily, aimlessly touched his shirt-covered sides like—

_It was as if like they’re—_

—Long-time lovers—

_Gah!_

“Then why did you jumped on my bed, this morning, as if you owned it?” Toru-san asked, making Taka gasped in horror, before slowly and subtly moving away from the teen’s lap. He felt the slight protest, the guitarist’s hands tightly clutching his shirt before immediately letting go.

“I did _not_!” he cried, taking a proper _seiza_ position beside the sleepy teen.

“Yes, you did,” Toru-san nodded to himself as he recalled the earlier events, a reminiscent smile plastered on his stupid face, “You asked me on what to do next, I told you that we should probably rest first and the next thing I know is you shedding your winter clothes—,” Taka shuddered at that, suddenly having the urge to smash his skull open onto the cold floor, “and jumping on my bed like a brat. Then you’re already sleeping and I was too tired to even care so I just lied down, and _slept._ ”

“You lied down.”

“That’s what I just said.”

“ _Beside me?!”_ Taka said indignantly, “What the hell.”

“What? It’s not like something would happen— _even if you ended up clinging to me like a monkey_ —since we’re both men, right?” Toru-san asked, completely oblivious. Taka gulped, slowly nodding, flushing the thoughts he had earlier. That’s right. They’re both men. There’s nothing to blush about. Even if he can still feel his heart fluttering just by thinking of their arrangement earlier. It’s not like Taka had enjoyed it, anyway.

He didn’t enjoyed the warmth seeping on his back as he slept soundly; nor the arm that was wrapped around him protectively, _possessivel_ y—giving him the sense of security the entire night; nor the tender feeling of Toru’s hands roaming on his sides, caressing in a meaningless way. He didn’t enjoyed them—NO— _not at all_.

He sighed, reverting back to his shy and aloof self. Gone was the adrenaline rushing through his veins after waking up. He suddenly felt tired and foolish and of course, _stupid_.

_Man, I just wanna sleep again..._

_But first..._

“I...” Taka fiddled with the blankets on his lap, “I _didn’t_ clung to you like, at all, in my sleep, right?” he nervously asked. He almost— _almost_ —sigh in relief when Toru-san flashed a big _smile_ at him, only to cringe in disgust at the guitarist’s next words.

“You _totally_ did.”

“Ugh,” he groaned, letting his body fall back onto the bed, “Fuck my life!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toru and Ryota lives in a dormitory for the Amuse talents.
> 
>  
> 
> Gah! Deny it all you want, Taka. We all know that you're probably throwing a party in your mind because you had your cuddling-time with Toru-san.
> 
> I'm cringing at this chapter OMFG. Why won't they just kiss already?!


	11. YUME YUME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Taka finally melted into the band. 
> 
> "Dream's aren't just for dreaming, SO, they're for fulfilling, yeah?  
> So, a dream that you won't make happen isn't a dream at all!!  
> Regardless, if people still tell us "dreams are just dreams",   
> First we'll cut down our predecessors and laugh it all off! All of it!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pacing of story gets a bit faster from here onwards since there aren't that much notable events during this part of their lives.
> 
> Also, thanks for leaving kudos and comments!
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not mine.

And oh, it was _totally_ fucked.

His life, that is.

After that _disastrous_ morning, the two ended up showering— _one after another, not together you perverted fan girls_ —and changing into warmer clothes. They jumped from the window and to the tree— well—Taka did jumped from the window, to the tree, then fell _majestically_ —face-first— onto the cold, soft snow when his foot _decided_ to slip on the branch.

Shivering in cold and starving like a man in the middle of Siberian winter, Taka ended up eating 2 bowls of ramen in a local street store which Toru-san said as:

_“The best Ramen in town.”_

_“Then why are we the only customers?”_

Taka immediately shut up when Toru glared at him. He also ended up paying for both of their meals since he’s a _responsible adult_ or something.

The rest of the afternoon was spent by searching for an apartment where Taka can make noise as much as he wants. They found one, a place about half-an hour away from the studio by walking. It is facing the local river, which is a bonus point since the girls from the Toru-san’s school usually walk on their way to go to and from school.

“Lucky~!” Taka said in delight as he watched 3 girls passed by from the balcony of the room.

“Isn’t this a bit expensive, Taka-san?” Toru asked hesitantly from inside the unit. Taka padded back to the empty room, noticing that Toru is looking around the expanse of the walls nervously, “I mean, 130, 000 yen for a unit with only one room?”

“What is it to _you_?” he rudely asked, crossing both of his arms over his chest, “I’m the one who’ll be paying that right?”

Toru-san twisted his mouth in distaste of his rather crude words, “Sure. But didn’t you also said that you quit your part-time job? How about school? Graduation is not until March, right?”

Taka’s brows arched at that, _who are you? My mother?!_

“I have a lot of savings,” he said, looking around the empty room, “Doesn’t matter if I stopped working for a while. I also quit school.”

Toru-san looked so dumbfounded, “You _what_?”

“I quit school,” he shrugged.

“Why?”

“Why do you think kids stopped going to school?”

Toru-leaned back, his lips pouting in concentration as he think of a suitable answer, “Uh, because they’re _delinquents_?”

“No, dumbass, it’s because they’re i _diots_!” he snapped, “I’m stupid! I have failing grades, I flunked all of my entrance exams, and I can’t _even_ write nor read _Kanji_! I’m a complete id—,” Taka’s mouth instantly shut itself when Toru-san’s shot up to grabbed his jaw, silently warning him to stop his nonsensical blabbering.

“Too much information, Taka-san,” Toru-san smiled, without showing any hint of neither pity nor disgust on him. His eyes just crinkled in amusement, as if he’s glad that Taka managed to open up, albeit explosively, or something, “I’m an idiot, too, you know? I almost failed my Kanji classes this term.”

“ _Uso!_ ”

“ _Uso-janai_!” Toru-san laughed while Taka stared at him in disbelief before plopping down on the floor, “It’s just too difficult. I feel like seeing Greek characters whenever I see _kanji_.”

“At least you know what a _Greek character_ looks like,” Taka said bitterly before sitting across the guitarist, listening to the light sound of the man’s laughter, “You can now go home, by the way. I’ll wait for the moving company by myself. You have many jobs even though it’s winter break, right?”

Toru-san laughters slowly faded in the background, but the soft smile on his lips remained, making him look like his actual age, “ _Nee_ , Taka-san. Why... what’s your _real_ name?”

…

To say that Taka is surprised at that question is a huge understatement. He never thought that Toru-san paid attention to those petty details regarding him.

_Well, it’s a given since he heard the police officer call me Moriuchi, huh..._

He sighed, eyes focusing on his socked feet as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, “I’m surprised that you haven’t look it up. You’re with Amuse right? You should’ve heard my real family name even for a couple of times...” he trailed off.

Toru-san said nothing at first but Taka knows that he’s also somewhat uncomfortable talking about his affiliation with the company. Taka fiddled with the loose thread of the button-up shirt he _borrowed_ from Toru-san earlier, waiting for the guitarist to answer.

“How did you even know that I’m with Amuse?” Toru-san asked in wonder, “And yeah...your name, Moriuchi, somewhat sounds _familiar_ , huh...”

Taka wanted to say that he read the signage of the dorm building Toru-san is staying. It says the Amuse Label in huge, bold letters so it’s not really difficult to miss that detail.

“Why don’t you just Google it or something?”

Toru-san shot him an offended look, “Nah, I’d rather wait for you to say it personally.”

_Then prepare to wait forever_ , Taka thought.

He scoffed, wondering what works Toru-san did under Amuse. He’s obviously not a child actor, Taka would’ve seen him years ago if he was. He’s definitely not a singer, too, so what? Modelling, maybe?

Taka put his fingers under his jaws in a contemplating manner as he subtly looked over Toru-san’s physique. Even though Toru-san is tall and admittedly has good looks, Taka can’t really imagine this _emotionless prick_ to actually pose for the camera.

_How awkward it’ll probably be!_

Taka hang his head lower, his shoulders shaking as he tried to fight off the snickers when he imagined Toru-san modelling for a magazine.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was already dark when the moving company arrived. They helped him unload everything from the truck but they refuse to carry the huge boxes into his room in the second floor.

“What do you mean it’s not in your job description you motherfucking—,” Toru-san _magically_ appeared in front of him, ruthlessly shoving him away from the crew of the company.

“Don’t mind my friend,” Toru-sans aid with a forced, tight smile on his lips, “He’s somewhat, uh,  childish so he doesn’t really know what he’s saying—,”

“ _I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU ALL_ —,” Taka started to scream before he was violently pushed back again.

The movers looked at them oddly, “He just _threatened_ us, young man.”

“No,no, he’s just bluffing,” Toru-san said in a straight-face, “he has this special _mental illness_ so he ended up like...” Toru glanced at the huffing and cursing small man behind him, “... _that_.”

The movers, fortunately, nodded in _understanding,_ “Ah, must have been though for you huh? You should have confined him in a mental asylum, just in case,” and with a sympathizing pat on the guitarist’s back, the movers left without another word.

Taka watched as the truck turned and vanished from their sight with an unimpressed expression on his face, “Now, he’s thinking that I’m _mentally retarded_ , huh...” he trailed off.

“At least you’re not going to jail for verbally abusing an old man,” Toru-san looked at him sideways, with a satisfied grin on his stupid face. Taka just scowled in indignation before going to the smaller boxes lying on the sidewalk.

“You’re gonna haul those giant boxes upstairs, asshole!” he mumbled which Toru-san happily obliged to.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They spent moving the boxes into his room in a relative silence. Well, Taka is _quietly_ plotting of the moving company’s demise as he panted in exhaustion with every box he carried. Toru-san, on the other hand, is a completely different case.

“Wow, you have a keyboard, Taka-san?”

“And an electronic drum set?”

“Do you play these instruments?”

“Are you some kind of music prodigy?”

“I’m hungry...”

“Whoah, you have a lot of CD’s huuuh...”

“Is this box full or porn mag— _ack! Gomen, gomen_ , don’t hit me!”

“I’m starving, Taka-saaaaaaaaan.”

After Toru-san’s fifth complaint about food, Taka decided that it’s about time to cook a meal. But considering that he just moved in, and he doesn’t have any raw ingredients on him right now, he just treated the guitarist to _“the best ramen place”_ in town.

After that, they parted on their ways, not without a promise to practice for an “ _audition_ ” song tomorrow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ano...” Ryota blinked the sleepiness away from his eyes as he stared on the quiet neighbourhood just across the road, “Don’t you think that we’ve been _too harsh_ with that uh... _what was his name again_?” he turned to the two elder students who, like him, are crouching in front of the _kombini._ The three of them are currently waiting for Toru-nii in front of the convenience store where they would usually meet before going to the studio. 

“Mori-chan,” Alex-senpai supplied, without looking up from his phone.

“Right,” Ryota nodded, “Don’t you think that we’ve been too harsh with Mori-chan last night?”

“Really?” Yu-senpai asked sceptically, “Well, he’s the one who act mighty and rude first, right? Isn’t he supposed to act as a timid underclassman or something?”

“He’s older than you, idiot.”

“Whaaaaaat?!” Yu’s eyes bulged out in disbelief, “ _Uso_! That _chibi-chan_?!”

Alex-senpai flipped his phone shut and turned towards the drummer, “You’re not even listening to Toru’s introduction, are you? He’s at the same grade as me, probably also graduating this March...”

_So, I’m still the youngest one, huh..._

Ryota sighed, leaning onto the wall of the store.

Toru-nii was clearly pissed off last night. He has never seen his older friend as disappointed as that. But what bothered Ryota the most is that, Tor-nii didn’t even raise his voice nor utter a single swearing to make them feel as if they’re the most horrible people in the world.

Toru has been like an older brother to Ryota, and he knows that his Toru-nii is the type of person _who would do any means_ to achieve his goals. Toru-nii said that he will get the band a vocalist, and he _did_. When Mori-chan— _was that really his name?_ —arrived last night, Toru-nii’s eyes really sparkled in excitement.

And what did the rest of them did?

They’ve been rude to Mori-chan, snapping at his blunt comments and judging him without even giving him the chance to prove himself.

_Am I that horrible?_

_Is that why Toru-nii avoided me earlier?_

Ryota went to the older’s room earlier, but the guitarist was not there. He tried going back before supper, in an attempt to apologize and probably lift up the mood, but Toru-nii was still not in.

That or he’s _clearly_ avoiding Ryota.

_Shit. What to do? What to do?_

“The brat’s loaded,” Alex-senpai suddenly said, catching both Yu and Ryota’s attention.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yu-senpai snorted, “Just look at his clothes! Damn, those brands cost around 50 to 60, 000 yen each!”

“ _Uso!_ ” Ryota cried, “He’s just a highschooler like us, right? How can he buy those lavished stuffs f he’s still in school?”

“ _Da-ka-ra_ ,” Alex-waved his hands, “His family is loaded. Apparently, he’s the oldest son of those famous _enka_ singers—you know them? Mori Shinichi and Mori Masako. Even the prime minister knows them.”

“ _Uso_!” the younger boys said in unison, albeit with _different_ reasons.

“I knew it! That’s why I felt like I’ve seen him before! He’s one of the NEWS right! The one who left to study or something?!”

Ryota felt at lost. He doesn’t know a _shit_ about Mori Shinichi nor Mori Masako. He’s not even aware that there’s a group named NEWS and what’ s more frustrating is that, he didn’t even know the Prime Minister’s name, _dammit!_

“So, he...” Ryota tried, hard, to compose a good response at that, “he’s... _rich_?”

A moment of _horrible and awkward_ silence ensued.

The two older students just stared at him before they casually want back to their conversations as if Ryota didn’t just say anything.

“To study? Hmmm... That’s not what I heard...” Alex-senpai drawled, fingers rubbing his perfect jawline in contemplation.

“Hey, don’t ignore me!” Ryota cried.

“So, what now?” Yu-senpai suddenly crouched, “An idol leaving his celebrity life just to, what? Form a band with us? Why would he even do that?”

_What. Wait, who’s the idol?!_

“Who knows?” Alex-senpai tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Mori-chan probably has his own reasons. Well, considering his family background, don’t you think that Toru got lucky in finding a diamond in the rough?”

_Diamond? Toru-nii found a diamond?!_

Ryota felt _completely_ at lost. The senpai’s are ignoring his presence— _probably even his entire existenc_ e—and he really can’t trust his brain on following the flow of conversation between the older students.

Yu-senpai snorted, “ _Impossibl_ e. It’s not like that good voice can flow in the genes right?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Apparently, a good voice can _indeed_ flow in the genes.

That, they discovered, after hearing the vocalist sang a few of Good Charlotte songs and one of Toru’s original composition. Ryota could even swear that everyone, well, except for Toru-nii, were listening to Mori-chan with their jaws hanging open.

Whether it’s because of disbelief or _pure awe_ , Ryota can’t tell—but there’s one thing he’s sure of—Toru-nii was not lying when he said that this midget can sing very wall!

Mori-chan cleared his throat after the last piece of song, before turning his glares at the three of them, “So, that’s it. Are you fucking happy now?”

Toru-nii slapped a hand over his eyes before facing the wall, probably to ask for the gods’ forgiveness about Mori-chan’s awful attitude.

It was Yu-senpai, however, was the one who screamed what the others are probably dying to say:

“There’s _absolutely_ no way we’d want a bad-tempered guy like him in the band!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Too bad_ , they weren’t the leader, because Toru didn’t waver even after hearing those comments again and again. He forced the group together with only his sheer determination and strong will.

Whenever Taka and the other members are about to burst into fighting and exchanging harsh words, he would always go into the middle and calm both sides without even raising neither a hand nor his voice.

It keeps going on and on, for days, Toru would be the leader and the mediator between the two factions of his band. He would scold everyone, not sparing anyone, if he thinks that they’re playing the notes incorrectly or if Taka keeps on forgetting the damn lyrics.

He would always say, “ _Play properly_!” or “ _Sing while looking forward!_ ” countless of times during their practice sessions. And in those hours, the four other members would forget their animosity towards each other. They would suddenly act like obedient little _puppies_ under Toru’s authoritative voice. Only during those hours, when everyone is too lost, too _deep_ into the music, that they actually act like a band—breaking into laughters when Toru missed a chord, teasing Ryota when he got a chord right, chuckling softly when Taka yelled in frustration upon forgetting yet another line of song, and whistling when Alex and Yu would strike a “cool” pose in front of everyone.

Then, when the practice ends, they would automatically be at each other’s throat again.

**_Alex:_ ** _We could’ve really nailed the last song if Mori-chan didn’t just butchered the English part of the lyrics—_

**_Taka:_ ** _Then you do the singing on that part you gigantic American-prick—who even told you to write an English line in the song?!_

**_Toru:_ ** _I was actually the one who wrote the song..._

**_Ryota:_ ** _Here they go again..._

**_Yu:_ ** _Can we just go home?! My mom’s already bombarding me with calls! And I’m already 17!_

And then, they’d all laugh together. Before getting into each other’s nerve again the next minute.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taka renting an apartment with that rent is legit.   
> Toru-san correcting everyone during their rehearsals is legit. LOL. Leader-sama through and through. 
> 
> P.S. LONG AND IRRELEVANT RANTS AHEAD! PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> I'm quite saddened by reading tumblr posts about several fans leaving the OOR fandom because their music changed or their direction in making music is not amusing or something. It was kind of depressing, to read their thoughts (though I'm not saying that they're wrong, they're entitled to their own opinions anyway) and decision to leave OOR. Why would you do that? I mean, yes, the recent albums weren't "rocking" as they used to be, but they're still making great ones, right? If they're really lost, and traversing the wrong path, why would you leave them behind? If you're beloved or even just a friend is living a misguided life, would you leave her/him behind just because she/he can't satisfy you anymore? She/He a\is a human, the way OOR are human beings. 
> 
> That's just so sad. It's true that I hate some of their new songs right now, but that doesn't make me want to leave them since every time I hear their music--Tomoya's drum, Ryota's bass, Toru's kickass guitar skills, and Taka's oh-so-so pretty voice--I've always reminded on how I fell in love with this band years and years ago.
> 
> Thank you for supporting them. Thank you for listening to them. Please support them until you can.
> 
> TORUKAisJUSTICE


	12. Kako Wa Kyoukasho Ni Mirai Wa Shukudai

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an EXTRA to end the first arc of the story, yay~! I think this chapter is set in the transition of year 2005 and 2006. 
> 
>  
> 
> "with the years all piled up together with troubles as they are, flittering in the heavens  
> the stars are lighting up the earth, but as for us,  
> maybe it's possible that everybody lights up every day  
> I've got nowhere to run if I go once onto the battlefield"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've said in the previous chapter, the story will be a bit fast-paced for the next ones, so please bear with me. Please note that there will be a short panic-attack somewhere in this chapter since someone is still a bit emotionally unstable at the moment. I think it's pretty normal for him to over-react, since, you know, he's barely starting to stand by his own feet and is still struggling to make name for himself.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for leaving comments and kudos~!

“What the fuck are you even doing here at—,” Taka blearily turned around to look at his wall clock, “six in the goddamned morning, you _stalking piece of shi_ —,”

“Shhh, Taka,” Toru hushed the disgruntled poodle— _vocalist!_ —the disgruntled vocalist who look like a cute tiny poodle, “Shut up for a moment. You’re gonna wake up your neighbours!”

“I don’t care!” the elder scowled before taking a good look on the guitarist. Toru-san is heavily geared with winter clothes—a beany covering his hair; a thick, dark blue scarf wrapped around his shoulders; a long coat and a pair of worn out gloves—since the season is coming to its coldest, “Why are you even already awake? And in front of my door? Aren’t you _allergic_ to early mornings, Toru-san?”

“Ehhhh,” Toru-san twisted his mouth in displeasure, “I just want to talk to you.”

Taka blinked at that.

What the heck? This asshole woke him up just to talk to him?! _Seriously?!_

_Shit. That’d better be a joke or else_ , Taka would surely give the guitarist a hell of beating.

“And that can’t wait until the practice tonight because...?” he trailed off, his body heavily leaning against the partially opened door to prevent himself from falling face-first.

“We’re not having a practice tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next day.”

...

...

Taka suddenly surged forward, falling onto the cold floor, _face-first._

“Oi!” As usual, Toru-san immediately ran to his aid, his larger hands roughly pulling Taka’s smaller body, “Are you alright? What happened?! Shit!”

Taka like it when the usually composed leader loses his shits over petty things like this. And since he’s somewhat incapacitated at the moment, he let the younger one drag his body back into the unit. He just snapped out of his disorientation when Toru _accidentally_ dropped him on his newly bought couch—

“What the—,” he hissed as his poor backside hit the hard cushion of the couch, “That hurts, you idiot!”

“Oops, _my bad_ ,” Toru-san apologized, _not sounding apologetic at all_ , before taking a seat on the much comfortable loveseat across the couch, “So, what happened? Why did you, uh, collapsed? Are you eating too much ramen again?”

Taka glared at Toru before sitting properly, “What happened?! You said that we’re not gonna be practicing for the next days! I should be the one asking you what the fuck happened?! Are we disbanding— _no, shit, I was just starting to enjoy our music_ —and we’re already disbanding?!” Takamercilessly fired questions after questions as his stupid brain tried desperately to comprehend the situation.

Okay.

_Toru-san said that they will not be practicing tonight?_

_But why? It’s because of my shitty outlook in life, right?!_

_Or maybe because I keep on wanting to stab Alex in the face?! But the jerk kinda deserves it! He’s good-looking but he’s a complete asshole in the first place!_

In that instant, Taka felt like everything was happening again—the NEWS, him quitting Keio, him leaving home, him finding a job that barely pays, him singing while feeling embarrassed by himself—him being _alone_ —

“DISBANDING?!” Toru’s deep voice exploded in his living area, “What— _shit, you’re hyperventilating_ —we’re not disbanding, no one’s disbanding—CALM THE FUKCK DOWN, TAKA-SAN!”

Oh.

_No one’s disbanding?!_

Taka’s eyes widened in realization as that line slowly sinks into his minds. He blinked multiple times, trying to clear his head off the haze that engulfed it when Toru dropped the bomb just minutes ago.

_Oh. Okay._

_That’s...good..._

His breathing slowly returned to normal. He spent a few more minutes in regaining his self and his sanity, before he scepticallylooked up at Toru-san, “So, uh... what’s wrong?”

“You freaking out over nothing, Taka-san,” Toru-san deadpanned, “Seriously, why do you always act like that? Like someone’s always gonna pull the rag under your feet or something?”

Taka gulped nervously at that. His freezing hands fiddled with the hem of his sweater, desperately looking for a distraction.

_Because, that’s what I’m exactly scared about._

_That I’m living in this dream that I’m standing over a pretty rug— and that something, someone, could easily take it away from me._

_Take everything away from me._

The band.

This house.

The shitty bond within the band.

_Toru-san._

**_Everything._ **

Then, Taka would have to start from scratch again. Just like he did a year ago.

Then, he would be alone again—unwanted, _unloved_.

_I don’t want that..._

So even if Alex is pissing the hell out of him with his dirty innuendos and prying questions, he still doesn’t want to have their _still-nameless_ band dissolved any time sooner.

He swallowed hard, “What? Really? It’s probably just your imagination, hahahaha,” he said, eyes looking downwards as a hollow laugh erupted from his throat. He knows—he can feel that Toru-san is giving him a scrutinizing and unconvinced stare right now but he’s not really in the mood to open up or something at the moment, “So, why are we not gonna have practice tonight? You’ve got date or something?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I do.”

Taka’s head snapped up at that. Only to be met by Toru-san’s lazy smirk.

“Seriously?”

“Nah,” the younger shrugged, his hand loosening the scarf tangled around his neck, “We’re going to Osaka for the New Year. I did told you that Ryota and I are originally from there, right?”

“ _Wrong_. This is the first time I heard about it,” he snorted.

“Well, _now_ you know?” Toru-san said in an unsure manner, “We’ll be back the next day so we can probably start practicing again on that day? How about you? Aren’t you gonna visit your parents for the holidays?” he smiled at him.

_Oh, Toru-san._

_You really love rubbing salt on my wounds, don’t you?_

“I’m not,” Taka shrugged, pulling his knees up onto the couch and hugged them to keep some more warmth.

“Oh... but...” Toru’s brows knitted in confusion, “How would you spend your holidays, then?”

“Uh, probably the same way I spent it last year? I’ll be probably working until tomorrow night, though.”

Toru’s eyes suddenly narrowed at the mention of his job. It was as if the guitarist was reminded of something that he shouldn’t have remember in the first place.

“ _Shigoto huuuuh_ ,” he drawled, his suspicious eyes never leaving Taka’s face, “You mean like working as a solo vocalist in a club downtown?”

_Ack! How did he found out?!_

Taka winced, shoving his head into his knees in an attempt to escape the younger’s fury, “I—what do you—,”

“A friend of mine showed me a video of you singing there, Taka-san,” Toru-san said in a warning tone, “Don’t even lie to me. What are you doing there?”

Taka ignored his curiosity on how did Toru’s friends managed to entered the club that was only for 18 years old and above of age.

“Uhm...working?”

“As a vocalist? Even though you’re already _our_ vocalist?” Taka flinched at the accusing, and somewhat betrayed tone of the usually calm band leader, “Why?”

He rolled his eyes, “For money, you dumbass. Why do you think I’m working? For fun?”

“You should be only singing for fun, though.”

Taka wanted to insist that he can’t exactly make a living just by having fun in singing, but just by the look of Toru-san’s determined face, he digressed.

“ _Hai, hai_. I promise that I’ll quit singing for others when we decide to get serious in our band.”

“We’re serious with our band—,”

“ _Are we_?” Toru instantly shut up at his blunt retort, “How about the other three?”

Toru didn’t respond at that. He probably couldn’t since he, himself, can see that the other members are not taking the band seriously. Toru-san’s probably always daydreaming, but he can still see how Alex prioritize his modelling career over band meetings, how unhappy Ryota is with playing the bass, and how half-hearted Yu is, in beating the drums.

_I mean, I’m already stupid yet I can still notice those things; how about Toru-san?_

It probably feels like a deer in front of the glaring headlight to the band leader who’s desperately trying to keep the band going.

Seeing that the guitarist has entered one of his depressive moods again, Taka decided to change his tone in a softer yet teasing one, “besides, I can get freebies from this job. I can get our band future gigs you know?”

Toru’s head snapped at that, “gigs? Like _live performance_?”

“Yeah,” Taka smiled triumphantly, “Unless you want to spend the rest of our lives practicing in the studio...?”

“What—no! _Zenzen dame_!”

“You don’t have to shout, Toru-san...”

“ _Ah gomen_! That’s nice!” suddenly, he’s smiling again. Lazy eyes glinted in excitement as he looks up at the ceiling, “ _Ii naa_... we’re gonna do lives... then perform in arenas...and probably...do you think we can perform to _Budokan_?” his dreamy eyes wandered over Takahiro’s like how when a child asks for sweets from his parents.

Taka really, _really_ wanted to say that it’s too soon to think of performing to Budokan when they can’t even get their performance right.

_But there’s nothing to lose right?_

He just need to dream big—work for it—and _make it a reality_ , right?

Taka smiled at the younger one, “ _Atarimae-darou_. I’m sure that we’re gonna conquer Japan... and even the whole world in the future.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That was _easier_ said than done.

Taka realized that, _painfully_ , as he woke up from a nightmare on the New Year’s Eve. He dreamt of singing in front of a huge crowd, wherein the audience hated him, and only came because he’s a Moriuchi. Then they started booing him, calling him awful names—and when Taka turned around to ask for help, pleading for support and trust, he realized that there was no one behind him.

The band is not there.

_Even Toru-san is not there._

And then, he was swallowed up by darkness.

He feels like he’s falling into a deep hole, it feels like he’s drowning in the bottomless pit of that sea of nothingness, and just as he was about to admit defeat, a sudden shrilling sound pulled him out of sleep.

Taka desperately panted for air, his eyes shot open, and was greeted by the darkness of his room. He took a few moments before calming down, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark as his ears strained for any sound amidst the dead silence of his home.

It was just his phone ringing.

_Damn._

He sleepily let himself fall back onto the bed as he flipped the phone open, his eyes squinting at the harsh brightness of the LCD.

It was a mail from Toru-san.

**_Happy New Year, Taka-san_ **

**_I hope that we can be cooler and make more music this year!_ **

**_Cheers!_ **

A photo of a fireworks display followed that short message.

…

…

Taka blinked, and blinked again, before a small smile formed on his lips. He wondered how such a short message and a blurry picture can instantly blew his anxieties away. He wonder how such small act of giving attention, of remembering him can easily calm Taka down.

He wonder how easily Toru-san— _the ever-bored-looking and expressionless Toru-san, of all people_ —can do it.

He closed the phone and tossed it somewhere on the bed.

 

_Ah, Toru-san had saved him again, right?_

With that happy smile on his face, Taka closed his eyes.

...

...

He dreamt of crimson and golden-colored fireworks that night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thaaaaaaat's it~! LOL.
> 
> Just kidding. This is the end of my first draft for the story waaaay back in July. Since I'm working in an office, I had to manually write the first draft then encode it when I got home. I thought that no one would actually bother to read this because of my shitty plot and errors. I'm glad that there are people who enjoys reading this work and are actually waiting for updates. You guys are the best *sheds tears*
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, please stay tuned for more updates and angsts and hopefully, laughs, and of course, not-so-subtle TORUKA moments in the future! (WHEN WILL PAPA TOMATO APPEAR IN THE STORY GODDAMMIT)
> 
> Thank you very much~!


	13. Ring Wondering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the nameless ban d was formed.
> 
>  
> 
> "It’s not like I hold onto the feeling of having no interest in things like that  
> So in the meantime, let’s get done whatever you all have been forced to do  
> You may’ve been called things like idiot, stupid, or a clumsy good-for-nothing  
> But see here, you’re still alive and breathing in this moment"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~!
> 
> This is actually more of an extra chapter (s) that will tackle how their little band was formed. The chapter's events happened before Chapter 1. I apologize for my confusing timeline shits and for the loads of grammar errors, typos, and plot-holes in the story.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos~!
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not miiiiiiiiiine~

Toru can still clearly remember that day when he formed the band.

Well, he really wished that he could forget that since it’s full of misery and angst and depression— _but no_ —his mind probably wanted him to suffer for the end of his life, so _yeah_.

It’s nothing spectacular. He doesn’t have that imaginary _light bulb moment_ when he formed the band. In fact, he was actually lying down on his bed, staring at Avril Lavigne’s smiling face on his ceiling and wondering how _fucked up_ his life is.

He was completely and utterly _bored to death_ back then.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Eh?!” Toru looked down on the pieces of yen on his palms, “What do you mean that I’m fired?” he snapped his head towards the owner of the small diner he’s currently working at as a part timer.

“ _Da-ka-ra_ , you didn’t told us that you’re still a high school student, _shonen_ ,” the owner said, blowing his smoke on Toru’s face—

_What the—_

“The administrator from your school went here earlier, threatening us that they would file a case against us if we let students work in our diner,” the burly old man explained.

_What?_

He’s not even aware about that rules _himself_. How is he supposed to tell the old man that he’s a high school student when he doesn’t even know that it’s against the rules?

_And for god’s sake, how old this man thinks I am?!_

“That’s bull—,”

“You really doesn’t have much of a choice, _shonen_ ,” the man said, pushing him out of the _shoji_ doors, “Go home, your parents are probably worried about you—,”

Toru wanted to say that he’s not living with his parents anymore— they’re in Osaka and probably sleeping peacefully by now—but he’s just too shocked that he didn’t even struggle when the owner manhandled him like that.

The dance band—HEADS—was dissolved just recently, and while he’s still doing things for the Amuse Label, he really needs something to do to fill his schedule or else…

_I’ll probably die of boredom._

Since he moved to Tokyo, he’s been always busy. His days are mostly filled with dancing, trying his luck in acting, studying and working at this diner. Now that they’re all gone— _well, except for school, I wish that I would never have to study ,too_ —he feels lost and confused.

He looked up, realizing that he’s already outside. The bitter and crisp air of the autumn night greeted him like a giant, _grubby, icy hand_. The winter is coming and he certainly doesn’t want to spend the colds months by sleeping his head off.

_Ah…_

He groaned, pocketing the last pay he received before taking steps towards the downtown.

_What should I do now?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What should we do, Toru-nii?” Ryota suddenly asked beside him. Just like him, Ryota had been in HEADS for long and now that the group disbanded, the younger is also probably feeling at lost.

“I don’t know?”

“Then what the hell are we even doing here in Shibuya?!” the younger demanded before burying his face on his freshly brought crepe. Toru watched as Ryota devoured the sweet treat as if he hadn’t eaten for days… _or years_ …

_What should we do huh…?_

He looked around. They are currently in Yoyogi Park, a span of greeneries in the middle of the ever-lively Shibuya. The southern side, where they’re sitting as if they didn’t just ditch their last period, is lined with red maples and brilliant yellow ginkgo trees. The blur of red, brown and oranges is so pretty that Toru can probably stay here and stare at them for days.

There are several children running around, their clothes a bit thicker since the chill of winter is slowly creeping into the city, especially at night. Far beyond the pond is a street performer with guitar. The lazy strums of the instrument are carried away by the wind, giving the park a source of soft music.

Toru find it enjoyable and relaxing.

_Maybe I should learn how to use the guitar?_

If he can recall it correctly, his father has two guitars in their house in Osaka.

_Eh… But I don’t even have any interest in music…_

_Should I buy CD’s?_

…

“ _Nee_ , Ryota. Where can I buy CD’s here in Shibuya?”

Ryota looked up from the crepe he’s busily eating with a confused look on his face. The younger stared at him as if he’d just lost his head.

“Never mind. Let’s ju st look for a Music store, okay?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They ended up in a slightly busy avenue where lots of students from different high school are hanging out. Toru eyed them warily while Ryota subtly clutched his uniform, probably scared of getting into trouble.      

They entered the music store, a foreign song blaring from the large speakers.

_Ah, this atmosphere is nice…_

He was about to go to the rock section when someone—a small kid bumped into him.

“Ah, _gomen_ —,”

The kid looked up, scowled at him—almond-shaped eyes glaring even if he’s obviously tinier—before marching towards the exit, his dark, curls bouncing along his every step. Toru stared at the small figure, wondering what the child is doing inside a music shop, until he was out of his sight. He blinked, and then shook his head in exasperation.

_What a weird child._

 

* * *

 

 

 Music— _as Toru had discovered_ —is fun.

He spent the next days listening to songs of different foreign artists. He bought a lot of CD—ultimately spending his last pay roll to buy Avril Lavigne’s albums. He loves Good Charlotte the best. Well, if he wants more pop, he would listen to Avril’s songs.

_Ii na…_

He sighed dreamily as the last song of the album concluded.

These musicians are amazing. How can they make music as if they’re practically born to create them? How can they sing songs that can move other people’s heart? How?

How can Toru become like that?

He want to do something worthwhile—something which he can leave behind, aside from dancing and that shitty acting stints he did. He want to do something cool and awesome and related to music.

He wanted to be able to play those kinds of songs…

He wanted to form a _band_.

…

Toru blinked at that thought.

“Wait, _what?_ ”

He stared at the CD on his lap, the songs of Good Charlotte and Linkin Park echoing in his head, before looking directly at Avril’s eyes.

_Shit._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryota is exhausted. It’s one o' clock in the morning and he’s been sleeping for like, _what_ , 30 minutes or something? He’s been up until midnight to defeat the final boss in this new game that everyone’s being crazy about. After doing his _chivalrous task_ , he threw the game console somewhere in his room to sleep because there’s school tomorrow—and yet—

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Ryota’s eyes shot open when someone furiously knocked on his door.

“Whu—,” he groaned, blearily glancing at the clock beside his futon— _It’s only one in the fucking morning!_

Who would be in their right mind to have business with him at this ungodly hour?!

He suspected that someone is either trolling him, or someone is there to kidnap him or something; but when he heard Toru-nii’s voice and the urgent rapping on his door, he immediately stood up and rush to open it for his older friend.

“Ryota! Ryota! Open this goddamn door! I know you’re in there—,”

“What the—,” he swung the door open, revealing a grinning Toru, “What’s happening?! Where’s the fire?!”

Toru-nii ignored his sleepy questions; he didn’t even wait for Ryota to invite him in his room—no—the older just pushed his way through, throwing a bunch of CD’s on the younger’s bed. Then he faced Ryota with a _slightly-maniacal_ grin on his usually stoic face.

Ryota is sleepy, yes, but even in his stupid mind, he can see that there’s something _wrong_ with his Toru-nii. No one is supposed to be that happy at this hour, not unless…

“Nee, Toru-nii…” he hesitantly said, his eyes warily watching as the taller teen bounces _excitedly_ on his spot, “Are you _high_?”

“What?” Toru-nii asked, before _chuckling_ as if Ryota just landed a good punch line, “Of course, not. Silly Ryota.”

_Yep, definitely high._

He’s not even aware that Toru-nii is smoking pots or marijuana or doing cocaine or something, but if it’s what makes the older happy, then Ryota would not stop him nor call the police on him. That’s what friends are for right?

Besides, Toru-nii had been depressed these past few days—always locking himself in his room. Ryota even heard weird sounds coming from the older’s room—like some shrilly foreign words and ear-grating guitar sounds. And oh, screaming. Lots and lots of _manly_ screaming.

Ryota nodded, completely unconvinced, “So, uhm…what’s up? It’s like...uh…just after midnight? And I’m really sleepy so,” he yawned, covering his mouth with his hands.

“Ryota,” Toru-nii said in a downright serious voice, “let’s form a band.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -oh~! a certain, little child got some short exposure time in this chapter~
> 
> most of the facts included in this chapter are from the Musica September 2012 issue. Translations can be found from the lovely ryeon's tumblr account.   
> -The HEADS disbanded and Toru lost his part-time job (idk if this is actually their dance group, but I made it different in the story)  
> -He woke up Ryota just to say that they're gonna form a band-IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT
> 
> The next chapter will be the 2nd part of this extra so stay tuned~!
> 
> Thanks for reading~


	14. WANOKUROKU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the nameless band was named.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos~!
> 
> This is the last part of the extra. This is composed of several time-skips and I apologize, again, for my shitty timeline. The last part happens after Chapter 12, back to the normal timeline of the story. 
> 
> Disclaimer: No. OOR is not mine. Sad.

Ryota’s jaw dropped on the floor with a loud _THUD!_

_Okay, I’m 100% Sure that Toru-nii is stoned._

He wanted to tell the older to go back to his room, drink plenty of water and sleep for the rest of the night— _like what everyone is probably doing right now_ —but there’s this determined look on Toru-nii’s face that instantly make Ryota shut his mouth.

“I listened to these songs and they’re great and I want to be like that!”

…

“I want to play guitar! Those distorted sounds they’re making? I want to do cool guitar solos!”

…

Ryota’s head feels like _exploding_...

He’s tired and sleepy and Toru-nii is saying a lot of strange things with that scary look on his face. He can’t understand it. Well, he can’t even understand what the fuck Toru-nii is saying _at all._

“What’re you talking about, Toru-nii?” he asked, his small frame slightly swaying in sleepiness, “Are you sure you’re still, uh, _sane_? What are you even smoking to make you,” he gestured the man’s restless moves, “like _that_?”

“What are _you_ talking about? Look, you know Linkin Park right? And Good Charlotte? And Foo Fighters? And Avril?”

Ryota merely blinked at that. His brain had long stopped processing Toru-nii’s words, and all that he can think of is how good the older at speaking English is. _No wonder his grades are always highest in English…_

“Ugh!” Toru-nii made a frustrated groan before suddenly fishing his Walkman out of his pockets, “Look, this is what bands are!”

Even before Ryota could disagree—“ _that’s a Walkman, Toru-nii!_ ”—the older had already made him wear the headphones. Just a second later, Ryota’s eardrums were shattered into thousands of _pretty_ pieces.

_Wh—what’s that sound?_

_And is this English?! Why is Toru-nii making me listen to these songs?! Is this way of punishing me for eating his strawberry cake last week?!_

Ryota had the urge to slide into a deep bow and beg for the older’s forgiveness. If the music and songs won’t stop, he’ll surely die. Toru-nii must’ve seen his pale, ashy and sleepy face because he suddenly stopped the music—

“Hmmm, that’s probably too much for you, huh? Let’s try this one—,”

—before replacing it with another one albeit with a slower vocals and cleaner sound of instruments in the background. Ryota listened to every songs of every album that Toru brought in his room. He listened dutifully even though he is just being _forced_ to do so.

He listened, even if his head started nodding off in exhaustion, and listened until he starts to actually like the songs.

I _t’s cool_ , he decided. Listening to this music is cool. _The music themselves are cool!_

“So, this is _rock_ , huh…” he said when the last song finally ended. He looked up to the older who’s intently watching his expressions, patiently waiting for his thoughts, “I...uh… I think it’s cool?”

“ _Darou_?!” Toru-nii said with his satisfied smile, “So, let’s form a band! You and me!”

_He’s really serious about that?_

Ryota only wanted to sleep, _was that too much to ask?_

“Look, Toru-nii, your idea is nice and cool but I think this is not the _right_ place to talk about that…dream of yours…maybe we should do this—,”

“You’re right,” Toru-nii nodded, making Ryota almost yell in victory— _almost_ —because the older suddenly grabbed his arm and dragged him out of his room, “Let’s go to the roof top.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Ah… such a fitting place to talk about our plans for the future huh…_

Ryota blandly smiled as he gazed at the starless sky. The night sky in Tokyo isn’t really great—too much lights, too much smoke. Add that to the coming winter season, and you’ll never be able to see even a single speck of stars on the sky.

Stargazing isn’t really his style, so what was he doing here again?

_Oh. Right._

Toru-nii wants to form a _band._

He lazily glanced at the older who’s staring on the tall buildings far in the horizon. Tor-nii probably spends most of his life awake at these hours so he’s not really bothered even if the sun is almost rising.

Unfortunately, Ryota _is._ Children at his age should be still sleeping at this hour—snuggled under blankets and pillows and will only wake up before the school bell rings or something.

…

Okay, that was maybe his ideal life but…to be actually wake until _dawn_?!

_Is this what Tor-nii’s days are?!_

No wonder he have a _gazillion_ of dark rings under his eyes!

“What do we do, Toru-nii?” he asked, “Are we really going to form a band?”

Because if you say so, I’ll definitely follow you.

“I want to… It’ll be cool right?” Toru-nii sighed, pulling his legs towards his chest, “Besides, I don’t have anything to do at the moment. We we’re busy for the last years and now that all of the things I enjoyed doing disappeared, I felt like I’m living a _worthless_ life?”

“You didn’t enjoy our time in HEADS?”

“I did, but I’m just a _child_ until then,” Toru-nii shrugged. Ryota wanted to point out that the group disbanded _just weeks ago_ but he chose to remain silent and look as if he’s _pondering_ about his life direction too.

“How about acting?”

“That was the _darkest_ part of my life and I don’t even want to see clips of myself doing that shit ever again.”

“Wow,” Ryota blinked, “Okay.”

_I guess I have to hide my recorded videos of Shibuya 15 huh…_

“How about you, Ryota? What do you want to do?” Toru-nii’s questions took him off-guard. He knew that the older always want the best for him, well, _except for this time_. Ryota actually believed that Toru-nii is forcing him to start a rock band or something. So he was quite surprised when the older asked him of his opinion.

“I… I really don’t have an idea, Toru-nii… I want dancing so much, you know that, right? Moving along the beats, doing flips…but when HEADS disbanded…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say. He was too focused on beating that damn game that he is just realizing the shit he’s in at the moment.

Now, he’s actually starting to have doubts.

_What will I do?_

_I want to be a dancer…and then, what?_

Toru-nii is lucky, huh? Ryota can say that the older is luckier than him since he finally got himself a thing to do, a hobby to focus on, a dream to achieve.

_How about me?_

_Will Toru-nii leave me if I don’t go with him starting this band?_

Ryota doesn’t want that. He’s shy ( _but totally not stiff and reserved_ ) and he’ll probably _die_ of loneliness and boredom if his only friend would leave him. He can’t also make any friends nor can stand talking to strangers so making new friends is already out of the question.

_What to do? What to do?_

Is he ready to _abandon_ his dream of becoming a dancer? Is he ready to throw all those years of experience in HEADS just to venture in the _unknown territory_ of rock bands?

Toru-nii is like an older brother to him. He’s the type that will absolutely do his best for something if he said he would. Ryota has been with Toru-nii since elementary, so imagining his days and life without the older one…

Ryota suddenly had the urge to bawl. It’s not manly— _I know_ —but he’s actually feeling the pressure right now. _What to do, what to d_ o—those questions echoed in his head for the next seconds.

He can’t do anything without Toru-nii…

_So, if Toru-nii says that he wants to play in a band, then I’ll…_

 

* * *

 

 

 

In the end, Ryota did _agreed_ on starting a band with his childhood friend. They’ve talked about it for _hours and hours_ on that cold rooftop.

Toru knows that Ryota wouldn’t say no to him, but he didn’t want to force the younger so he kept on asking about his opinion. And when Ryota said that he would be following Toru’s decision, the older never felt so happy in his life before. It’s because, after days and days of moping around—after hours and hours of thinking of his purpose his life, he finally decided on one.

And Ryota even agreed on joining his dream to be number one band in the future!

…

Okay, that may had _quickly_ escalated but they were young and naïve and idealistic and high in excitement. They’re too _pumped up_ that as soon as the sun rose, they rush to the nearest Electronics Shop to buy a Magnetic Tape Recorder.

“ _60, 000?!_ ” Ryota screamed in shock, making the sales lady lean back in surprise. She’s probably not used in seeing two disheveled and _suspicious-looking_ teens rushing into the shop before it even opened, “Isn’t that too much?!”

Toru, of course, was also shocked, but then again, he’s too _high_ in excitement and full of _youthful dreams_ so he ignored the whispers in his head that’s telling him that he would go bankrupt if buys that MTR.

“No, Ryota, look,” he grabbed the younger’s shoulder to give him a few words of encouragement or someshit, “We need to try a little _harder_ for this! This is our dream! And look,” he then grabbed Ryota’s baby-smooth jaws, forcing him to look into the MTR in the glass case, “that thing is shinning and shimmering and is just probably waiting for us to buy it!”

“OH!”

“Let’s split the bill.”

“Eh?” too dazed, and probably too sleepy to even care, Ryota immediately agreed, “ _Yosha_!”

The sales lady just looked at them with a slight frown on her face, especially when Toru started screaming as if he _owned_ the damn place.

“Boys, are you gonna buy or I’m gonna call the pol—,”

“We’re gonna buy!” Toru turned to the lady, “We’ll _definitely_ buy it!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Do you even know how to use this thing, Toru-nii?” Ryota asked as he fiddled with the switches and buttons on the black recorder they’ve just bought.

Toru stared down at the huge ZOOM MTR lying on the floor of his room. He can _easily_ blame Ryota’s stupidity for not being able to operate the device, but Toru doesn’t have any idea on how the thing is even working.

They’ve been trying to make the thing work for two hours now. Ryota doesn’t want to read the one inch thick manual and Toru is, again _too enthusiastic_ to accept the fact that they’re completely at lost with the device.

He scratched his head in a pondering manner, “It’s no good with just _this_ ,” he said, making the younger look up at him in confusion, “Let’s look for members.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You’re doing a band?” Toru watched as this Alex-senpai flipped his cap, “Does that means that you’re gonna have fan girls in the future?”

“Uhhh…” he glanced at Ryota who’s subtly hiding behind him, “We’re not really sure but yeah, I guess?”

“Ok, consider me in,” Alex-senpai flashed them his magazine cover-worthy smile, “I can only play electric guitar, though.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So, you’re saying that you quit HEADS just because you want to _form a band_?!” Toru’s classmate, Yu, asked in disbelief, “Are you fucking _insane_?! You’re living the life I want and you threw it away just to what…just to play _tambourine_?!”

Toru felt his eye twitched in annoyance at that. _Man_ , this Yu really knows how to unconsciously get on his nerves. If he’s not the only one that can play drums in that school, then Toru won’t be even dreaming of asking this simpleton to become their drummer.

“ _Da-ka-ra_ , we didn’t quit. It’s been dissolved. And if we get big, we could be as famous as HEADS in the fut—,”

“So we’re gonna be famous!?” Yu perked up at that, “Why didn’t you told me earlier?! When are we gonna _start_ practicing!? We had this garage that we’re not using in our house so if you want, we can play there!”

Toru and Ryota exchanged a confused gaze with each other. This Koyanagi Yu is a bit weird, and will probably be at the _end of Toru’s wrath in the near future_ , but they now have an official drummer so they wouldn’t be complaining.

_Not at all._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“It’s not good with just _this_ ,” Toru said after their practice ended. Since they started rehearsing ( _and getting to know each other_ ) in Yu’s garage, they’ve only been memorizing songs from western bands. All they did was play music with their respective instruments.

A band should have a _vocalist_ right?

“Whaaaat?!” Yu whined, leaning forward to rest his head against his drums, “What is it this time? I think I played my part properly, right?”

Alex-senpai shrugged, “Well, except for the last part where you screwed up the rhythm, I think you did…uhm... _well_.”

“Wow,” Yu pouted, “Thanks.”

Toru stared at his dust-covered converse. He can’t sing. Well, he can read the lyrics and time it with the beats, but at that rate, isn’t that just _rapping_? He can’t hit the high notes either. That’s for sure.

“I…” he started, effectively gathering everyone’s attention, “I think we need a vocalist. Does anyone of you knows how to sing?”

…

No one answered for a moment. The only thing that can be heard inside the room is the soft static from the amplifiers, and the sound of Toru’s foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

He raised and expectant brow, “ _Well?_ ”

Ryota hesitantly raised his hand, as if he’s about to answer in a class recitation. Toru instantly knew that there’s something to be nervous about just by watching the grin slowly forming on the youngest’s lips.

“Toru-nii,” Ryota said, his face contorted as he desperately tries to hide his shit-eating grin, “I think I know how we can choose our vocalist.”

Toru shuddered at that suggestion. There’s no doubt that there’s _something bad_ will happen.

“Let’s have a screaming and rapping—I mean, _singing contest_ , Toru-nii.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“— _ru-san_. Toru-san!”

Toru blinked out of his reverie when someone screamed directly onto his ears. He jolted in surprise as Taka-s concerned face suddenly zoomed into his field of vision.

“Taka-sa— _what_? What’s happening?” he asked in confusion.

He looked around as he feel a bit disoriented, and realized that he’s still in Taka’s unit. That’s right. They we’re arranging the songs they’re gonna perform for their first live next week. Toru can recalled being bored when Taka said that he needs silence to concentrate or something and the next thing he knew is the vocalist leaning towards him.

“What ‘ _what_ ’?” Taka’s brows knitted in worry, “Are you alright? Or are you immersing yourself in your world of imaginations again?”

Toru wanted to argue that he’s not always daydreaming but he stopped himself. Arguing with Taka these days have been stressful and painful since the older can land _good punches_ , despite his smaller physique, when pissed off.

“No, it’s nothing…” he turned to the window, watching as the snow fall heavily outside, “I just… I’m just remembering _something._ ”

Taka blinked at his lack of comeback, “Oh,” he said before leaning back on his spot on the floor, papers and chord sheets lying around him, “I guess that’s better than always daydreaming…”he mumbled before looking down at the form given by the club manager.

_Back to your aloof self again huh…_

Toru can’t really understand this person. One moment he’s so alive and energetic and spitting _curses and fire_ and the next, he’s looking down, smiling bitterly and only saying a few words.

_Such a waste for his pretty voice, though_ , Toru thought. He glanced at the wall clock, it’s still early. Three more hours before it’s finally time to practice, before he can finally strum and play his guitar to his content—three more hours until he can be with the band again.

“ _Ne_ , Toru-san,” Taka said, his raspy voice piercing the silence of the apartment, “The form here is asking for our band’s name,” he said pointing to a blank space in the form before looking up at the guitarist again, “You have _one_ , right?”

“Uh…” Toru frantically searched his mind for some inspiration for the band name— _because he definitely didn’t think that the pressure of naming the band would be pushed onto his shoulders_ , “how about…” his eyes roamed around the house—

_What to name—_

_What to name—_

_Shiiiiiit—_

His panicked gazed landed on the wall clock, shit, how he wished that the hands would finally point to _one_ so that they can leave and practice and—

_Wait._

_WAIT!_

_THAT CAN ACTUALLY WORK!_

It signifies the time when they would always practice, right?

It will probably be a reminder to their humble _beginnings_ , even when they get famous someday right? To remind them that once, every weekends, they meet in a studio and practice like the total amateur band they are—always, at exactly—

“ _Wanokuroku_ ,” he said in a confident voice, making Taka glance at him as if he just grew a few more sets of limbs, “Our name would be _One o’ Clock_.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A few moments later, Taka eyed him suspiciously. Toru sweat profusely as he defiantly ignored the older’s stare.

“You just came up with that _now_ , right?”

“No.”

“Hmmmmm, okay, but I think we should change the _clock_ to _rock_. It sounds the same, right? It’s cooler that way. Maybe we should change the _o_ to _OK_ since it’s kinda _lame_? What do you think, Toru-san?” Taka said in monologue, writing the band’s name on the blank, _in all capital and bold letters_ —clearly not giving the band leader to voice out his opinion or something—before standing up to pad to the kitchen, “By the way, since you _obviously_ lied to me just now, there’s gonna be no midnight snack for you.”

Toru nodded, then widened his eyes in horror as he realized the _heavy_ implications of the vocalist’s words, “wait—whaaaaaaaaat?! NOOO!!! Taka-saaaaaan!!!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The part in Ryota's room was almost canon, according to the translations  
> -Ryota and Toru did bought an MTR even if they don't know shit about the device.


	15. Yoru ni Shika Sakanai Mangetsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst. Loads of teen angst. And lots of "homo-janai" thoughts.
> 
> "Hey Mr. Crazy,don't you think?  
> We are losers  
> Who can be trusted and who is here to add another scar?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: OOR is unfortunately not mine.

Taka should have known _better_.

He should have known that whenever something _good happens,_ something bad would _definitely_ follow after that. Meeting Toru-san, joining the band, meeting those people—all of the good stuffs he had experienced these past few months—he should’ve known that it can be _easily taken away_ , in a blink of an eye.

Just like when he’s still in NEWS.

“Are you nervous, Mori-chan?” Alex’s weird accented voice snapped Taka out of his reverie. He looked up, only to see the _ikemen_ ’s grinning face, “Don’t worry, there’s at least 20 persons out there. There will be _actual people_ who would listen to us perform.”

_Heh. It’s not like I care for those kind of things, anyway..._

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, looking down on his shoes, “Those were all of your _friends_ though.”

“Eh? Toru also invited some of his, right, _leader-sama_?”

Said _leader –sama_ is looking directly o the bare walls, hugging his electric guitar as if someone would take it away from him.

_Toru-san is probably nervous_ —Taka thought—about playing in front of a crowd. That’s pretty normal. Maybe that’s the same reason why Taka is feeling uneasy at the moment.

_It’s just a little stage fright, right?_

After all, this is his first attempt to make a name for himself—so that he can break away from the chains of being “Mori’s son.” This is the first step in being “ _Taka of ONE OK ROCK_ ” right?

_Right._

He nodded to himself, desperately trying to rein in the negative emotions swirling within him.

_Everything_ will be fine.

Everything will be _alright_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Of course, everything became a _mess_.

Yu, their drummer, didn’t show up for their live—their _first_ live. They waited and _waited_ , watching for everyone who would enter the back stage, hoping— _praying_ that Yu just got caught up in traffic or someshit—but the manager came and asked— _forced_ —them to perform or else, they’ll be thrown out of the live house.

Taka didn’t want that—everyone didn’t, but they had to move forward.

_The show must go on._

Their performance was _sloppy_ —the guitars echoing loudly in the hall, the bass _barely_ heard, and Taka’s voice shaking with _fury_ , with _fear_ , with _sadness_. The crowd clapped politely, cheered for them and even asked for an encore—but deep inside, Taka knew that they weren’t deserving of that attention.

They’re a _mess_ ; their performance’s a _chaos_.

Suddenly, Taka felt like he’s in NEWS again when everything is falling apart, just because he fell in love with an older girl.

Suddenly, he felt those eyes again—judging him, silently blaming him for the shame to their family name.

Suddenly, he was _not Morita Takahiro_ anymore.

He’s back to being _Moriuchi Takahiro_ —a member of Johnny’s idol group NEWS; son of the famous _enka_ singers Mori Shinichi and Mori Masako.

Taka’s eyes widened, glazing, as he stared down at his faded shoes.

Suddenly, he _doesn’t feel like living_ anymore.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What the hell was _that?_!” Alex-senpai said upon leaving the live house through the back door, “Did you just really ditched us?! In our live?!”

Toru can tell that the older is fuming. He rarely see the half-American get mad at something since he was all smiles, always ready for the camera, but now, just one look at those intense eyes, Toru can already tell that someone would be _dying_ just by looking at them.

“Apparently, yes,” he answered in a cold voice before looking down on his phone, “he said that he would be explaining tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!” Alex-senpai turned at him with those sharp glares, “Why can’t he show up now and do the explaining tomorrow? Didn’t he know how _important_ this live is—to us? How can he— _argh_!”

Toru sighed and glanced behind him. Ryota is restless on his feet, his jaws tight as he clutched the strap of his bass guitar’s case tightly. Even if the youngest is not speaking, Toru can tell that he’s also angry. Toru is somewhat glad that Ryota kept his emotions under control.

_I really wouldn’t want to calm two people at the moment..._

As for the _third_ one...

“I think I need a drink!” Alex-senpai stretched his long arms above his head, “You’re gonna come with me or what?”

Toru’s lips formed a frown as he took a glimpse at their vocalist. Taka-san had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. The vocalist is looking down on his shoes, not moving, not even _blinking_. His breathing is erratic, as if the older one is desperately trying to calm himself.

“I...” Toru said, crossing the short distance between him and the vocalist, “I’ll pass. I’ll take Taka-san to his unit. Ryota,” he glanced at the confused bassist, “Will you be alright if you go home alone for tonight?”

Ryota opened his mouth, probably to complain, but just a stern look from Toru made the bassist comply without even starting a childish argument, “ _H-hai_ , Toru-nii...”

Alex-senpai raised an inquisitive brow, “You’re spoiling Mori-chan like a _girl_ , you know?”

Toru waited for the vocalist to retort with a sharp “I’m not a girl!” but Taka-san remained stoic, he probably didn’t even hear what the lead guitarist had said.

_What’s wrong?_

“I...he’s important to the band,” Toru said, grabbing the vocalist’s sleeved-covered wrist, “Like everybody else. We will talk to Yu tomorrow and decide what will be our next move. For the mean time, let’s rest. Good job, everyone!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru _miraculously_ led the way back to Taka-san’s apartment without any argument and violent struggling from the vocalist. In fact, Taka-san is being so _uncharacteristically_ quiet, not even making any effort to detangle his arm from Toru’s grip the whole time they’re walking to the apartment building.

Taka-san didn’t even spoke a word, nor asked how Toru knew that the spare key is under the plant of dead cactus in front of the door.

He led the silent vocalist inside, shed off his sweater and scarf before turning the heater on. When he was done, he turned towards Taka-san who is standing still on the exact spot where he left him.

“Hey, Taka-san...” he said, trudging forward, gently pulling the Peruvian hat off, letting those dark curly locks bounced freely on the vocalist’s face, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

No response.

Toru felt himself sweating. What should he do?

He can deal with a _screaming and murderous_ Takahiro but this—this _silent and unresponsive one_ is a different _case_. Toru is even getting scared of this stoic demeanour from the usually lively vocalist.

What happened?

Taka-san looked so _small_ , so _fragile_...as if one wrong touch can shatter him into thousands of pieces.

Toru tried a different approach. He untangled the thick scarf from the vocalist’s shoulder and let his warm hands cup his face, “Hey Taka,” he said, “What’s wrong? _Come on_ , talk to me...you’re scaring me, you know? What’s wrong?”

It took minutes before Taka-san blinked dazedly up at him, those almond-shaped eyes widening as he realized their position.

“Huh? Toru-san?” he said, looking around in confusion, “where are we? Is this some king of love hotel or someth—,”

“This is your unit, Taka-san.”

“ _WHAT._ ”

“You didn’t recognize your own home?” Toru asked, subtly retracting his hands, noticing how the vocalist flinched at the mention of the word “ _home_.”

“I’m just...a bit confused...” his eyebrows knitted, “How’s the live? I really can’t recall..?”

_What’s happening?_

Is this because of his dazed state earlier? Did Taka-san suffer from some kind of _short-term memory loss_ or something?

Toru debated whether he would honestly tell Taka-san what transpired earlier—he really don’t want to lie to the vocalist, but judging from the waves of stress practically rolling from Taka-san, Toru decided that it would be better to hold off the fact that their drummer didn’t show up—

“Oh,” Taka-san blinked up at him, “Yu didn’t come right?”

—or probably _not_.

_So much from protecting Taka-san’s feelings from the harsh reality._

“Was...” Toru looked at the vocalist again, noticing how his shoulders slumped forward, “was it _my_ fault again?”

“Huh?”

“Are we gonna disband?”

“What—,”

“Am I not good _enough_?”

“Whoa—wai—,”

“Am I gonna be a disgrace again—,”

“Taka-san—,”

“My father would be _livid_ —,” Taka’s eyes are wide with fear, something that Toru had never seen before, as his smaller body shook, “My mom would cry again because I’m a failure. I let them down again—I’m stupid, can’t even finish high school, can’t pass the entrance exams— _can’t even play in a band properly_ —I’m,” a crazed, somewhat maniacal smile formed on the older’s lips, “I’m _better_ off dead, right—,”

“No!” Toru grabbed the man’s shoulders to shook some sense into him, “That’s not true! How could you say that, Taka-san?!”

_It’s not true!_

No one should be speaking of themselves like that— _no one_ —especially Taka-san!

He’s wonderful, hard-working and has this amazing talent to be proud of!

_How could he say that to himself? How can he look at himself like he’s the most pathetic person in the world?_

Toru felt himself getting enraged at the man’s thought.

“You’re not  failure, okay?” he said through clenched teeth, “What happened earlier was not your fault. It’s Yu’s okay? We’re not gonna disband and you’re certainly not gonna be a disgrace to your family!”

Taka-san merely gazed up at him with a blank expression on his face, “How can you know about that?”

Toru felt at lost, “I—I...”

“How can you be so sure when _you don’t even know who I am_?” Taka-san’s chilling voice sends shiver down the guitarist’s spine.

Toru frowned.

Taka-san is right. He doesn’t know that _much_ about the vocalist—where he’s from, who is his family, nor why did he have two surnames. How can he even possibly spend weeks with this man without even knowing those basic things? He spent countless hours in this unit, shared numerous meals with Taka-san and indulge themselves into listening to western music for days after days— _and yet_ —

“Then,” Toru swallowed, bravely meeting those glaring orbs, silently challenging the vocalist, “ _who are you, Taka-san_?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The sun is already rising when Taka-san finished his story about his life. Soft yellow rays filtered through the thin curtains, basking the room in a faint morning light. Toru can hear the heater droning in a corner, as well as the faded sound of vehicles passing outside. The room was so quiet, and Toru was thankful of that as he looked down on the vocalist beside him.

Taka-san is glancing away, staring at nothing. His head leaning on Toru’s shoulders as they sat, side by side on the couch on the living room. Toru didn’t mind the contact, no— _not at all_ —because the warmth from Taka-san reminds him that the vocalist is _real_ , that everything he had revealed is real.

Toru had learned, through Taka-san’s soft way of telling his story, that the vocalist came from a wealthy family. Taka-san’s parents are famous in the traditional music world, _enka_ singers who goes by the name of Mori. He learned that Taka-san grew up hating his wealthy household, envious of the normal children with normal families. How he ended up being a delinquent, believing that he can’t fall _further_ than he already has.

How he started as an idol, how he received cold shoulders and hateful gazes. How he heard “ _he’s Mori’s son_ ,” and “Oh, he’s _that_ son huh...” over and over again. How he was kicked out of the group because of a rumour. How he tried saving his life and career by attending cram schools—

_“I went to cram schools just to study multiplication and division,” Taka-san let out a hollow laugh, “It’s pathetic right? Even grade 3 students can do that.”_

—and failed _miserably_. How he left home, stayed with his grandmother— _probably the only one who ever supported him from the start_ —then left to study in a public school, got a job that barely pays, and shut himself within his own walls.

Toru felt like _crying_.

He actually wanted to cry because that’s the _saddest_ story he’d ever heard in his entire life—but when Taka-san himself didn’t even shed a drop of tear, he guessed that it would be disrespectful to bawl like a huge crybaby.

Suddenly, everything _makes sense_.

Why Taka-san is acting the way he is, why Taka-san is so afraid of trusting others, why Taka-san is so reluctant in making friends, in making decisions for himself. Why he is always looking down, as if ashamed of his _voice_ , ashamed of _himself_ , whenever he’s singing.

Images of a young Takahiro flooded his mind—a lonely child _longing_ for his parents’ attention and acknowledgment; a crying child _begging_ for support and acceptance; a rebellious teenager _wanting_ to be noticed and to be helped.

Toru felt something his chest clenched painfully at that.

How... how Taka-san did even managed to survive all those times— _alone_ and without anyone to comfort him? Toru even felt foolish that he got depressed over losing a part-time job while Taka-san is constantly battling with self-depreciation and social-anxiety all his life.

His right arm twitched, wanting to wrap itself around the smaller man’s shoulder to pull him closer, to let Taka-feel that now, there’s someone who would _catch_ him if he falls, someone who would _listen_ to his complains, someone who would _support_ him with his decisions in life. However, Toru’s mind is screaming something like “ _you’re not a homo! You’re not a homo!_ ” so he decided against it.

Besides, they’re both guys so wanting to hug each other would be totally _weird_ , right?

Right.

He’s not a _homo_.

Then why is his hand still _twitching_ in desire to hold the older one against him? Friends can do that right? Friends can hang out, early in the morning, sat beside each other in close proximity, right?

Right.

He just hopes that Taka-san wouldn’t mind it. Toru gulped, as he lifted his arm and _subtly_ snaked it behind Taka-san’s hunched form beside him. He was about to pull the man closer, but then, he noticed that the vocalist is already dozing off.

WHAT.

_He’s already asleep?!_

Toru rolled his eyes in frustration as he inspected the vocalist’s face, his fingers turning that baby-smooth jaws to take a good look on his sleeping face. Taka-san looked younger with his eyes closed, his forehead free of creases and his lips partly open, without a trace of his usual scowls and frowns.

He looked like a _middle schooler_.

And Toru looked like an _adult_ staring down at an _underage teen_.

His hands immediately retreated, as if he’s been scaled by flames, and calmed himself down.

_Homo janai._

_Homo janai!_

He carefully untangled the smaller body beside him and hauled Taka-san over his shoulders, like a _bag of potatoes_ to carry him into the sole room in the unit.

_Homo janai._

_Homo janai._

He gently laid the vocalist down onto his bed and tucked him in. Toru carefully brushed the stray strands of curly locks off Taka-san’s face.

_He looked so peaceful, huh..._

Toru’s heavily lidded eyes travelled to those closed eyelids, red-tipped nose, the moles decorating his flushed cheeks, those slightly parted lips...

...lips that are so _full_ , so soft-looking, so _inviting_ —

Toru blinked. Then straightened up.

_What the hell was that?_

He’s not a _homo_ , right?

_Right?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story about Taka's life is canon, as everyone probably knows.  
> Yu ditching them is not quite accurate since I remember reading somewhere that Yu barely made it to their live.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos~!


	16. Yokubou ni Michita Seinendan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lots of Ryota's cute bawling. No Toruka in this chapter :(
> 
> "The light shines again, and this time so that we don’t get tricked  
> We have a goal: a group of young people full of desire"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sad.

“How can you do that to us, you _piece of shit_?!”

Ryota flinched when Alex-senpai—the usually _calm and smiling and effortlessly good-looking_ Alex-senpai—spat in fury as the four of them gathered in the back of a school building during lunch break.

Yu-senpai cringed, stepping backwards to escape the senior’s fury, “ _D-dakara—_ ,”

“We’ve been practicing for _weeks_ , Mori-chan had been _begging_ for that club for _days_ , just to let us perform,” Alex-senpai gritted his teeth, “We’ve waited for you—and what did _you_ do?! You ditched us! You left us hanging in the air!”

Ryota nervously glanced at the bandleader. Toru-nii looked like he’s been hit by a 16-wheeler truck. His hair’s in a mess and there are more dark circles surrounding his hollow eyes. However, unlike the enraged lead guitarist, Toru-nii looked _completely_ normal, well aside from his worsening looks, and perfectly calm—the face of a strong leader.

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” he said to Alex-senpai, “Calm down, Alex-senpai. Let’s first ask Yu on why did he ditched us last night,” cold, emotionless eyes then turned to the drummer, “do you want to say _something_ , Yu?”

Ryota and Yu-senpai gulped audibly at the scary aura drifting off form the rhythm guitarist.

_No wonder how Toru-nii managed to force Mori-chan into joining the band! He’s scary with that look on his face!_

“I...my mom talked to me yesterday...she,” Yu-senpai looked down on the dirt they’re standing on, “she was worried about me...about my future. She asked me if: what are you doing in a band that may not sell?”

_What the hell?!_

Did Yu-senpai’s mom just belittled their band—

“And what did you tell her?” Toru-nii’s calm voice pierced the air. Yu-senpai shook his head before answering.

“She said that I should be realistic...besides, I originally wanted to be an actor, remember? It’s just that—,” Yu-senpai didn’t even manage to finish that sentence when Toru-nii suddenly lunged at him. The guitarist’s hand grabbed his classmate’s collar and roughly slammed h on the wall of the building.

“Holy shit!” Ryota yelped in surprise, while Alex-senpai jumped into action—scrambling to force the two second year away from each other, “Whoah, whoah—!,”

“So, you _conveniently_ left us hanging there, waiting for someone who would _never even show up_?!” Toru-nii’s voice roared deeply making Ryota fear for Yu-senpai’s life, or the _well-being_ of his face, at least, “You want to be an actor and yet, you can’t be even a bit professional? Don’t make me laugh, Yu.” Toru-nii laughed in sarcasm, before pushing the other away, “I just hope that you’ll reach your dreams and I’ll make sure that you’ll _deeply regret_ leaving us,” Toru then smiled ruefully, “I hope we can still be friends though, Koyanagi Yu.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Wow,” Taka blinked when he heard the full story of _Toru-kicking-Yu’s-ass-out-of-the-band-fiasco_ from Alex, “Toru-san really did that?”

“You should have seen his face,” Alex said, casually lounging on his couch— _Taka’s couch_ as if he owns it or something— “It’s like him doing his role in Shibuya 15 all over again!”

Taka heard Ryota snicker behind him. The youngest never spoke to him so hearing him laugh is somewhat refreshing. He originally thought that Ryota is just like that—a kind, obeying, quiet-type of person who follows Toru around like a _duckling_.

“What’s Shibuya15—,”

“It’s just their _imagination_ , Taka-san,” Toru-san _magically_ appeared at that moment, easily fending off his questions, “Anyway, what are we doing here again?”

Taka narrowed his eyes at the band leader before shrugging. Toru-san can be secretive sometimes.

_Even though I spilled my entire life to that jerk!_

“I don’t know,” he said, eyeing the snacks littering his center table, “I live here; so, tell me, what the fuck are you _three_ doing here?”

Alex whistled, looking away.

Ryota just went back to hide into his shell or something.

Toru-san merely stared at him with an offended look on his face, “ _Uso!_ I told you that we’re gonna discuss about our band’s future today!”

“You _did?_!” Taka met Ryota and Alex’s confused gaze as they blurted out the same thing at the same moment, before looking to the band leader himself.

“Yeah! I sent you a mail before our performance last night!”

The three exchange a look of confusion before simultaneously fishing out their phones to look at the e-mail _allegedly_ sent out by their leader.

_Ah... He really did sent one!_

Taka brought the phone closer to read the content of the _ridiculously_ long mail.

 

 

_Hey, guys._

 

_Before setting out to the stage tonight and have our first live performance, I just want to say that we did a pretty good job in managing to reach this...uh...far?_

Taka snorted at that. _This far?_ They haven’t even made a debut album and this idiot is already thinking how far they’ve reached.

_I know that performing live is very different from rehearsing in the studio. Live’s are not something that we can suddenly do so we should give our best during our performance. We’re gonna play in a very important place, with actual people who might not like our music—even so, let’s give it our all. This is our chance to leave something behind, so thinking about that, imagine a scene of us playing in the live performance before you sleep tonight._

 

_Yamashita Toru._

 

 

Taka glanced at the band leader over the edge of his phone, “You could have just said ‘ _let’s do our best’_ and ditch all those fluffy things, Toru-san.”

Toru glared at him, “Well, _sorry_ for sending out long e-mails!” he snapped before continuing in a much softer tone, “It’s just that... If I didn’t do that, I’m scared that we’ll become _disconnected_...”

Those words hung heavily in the air. It brought up the topic they really wanted to avoid—the lost of their drummer. Personally speaking, Taka didn’t give a _damn_ about that Koyanagi Yu. He’s not even that great as a drummer. What pissed the shit out of him is that the sophomore had the _audacity_ to leave them just before their first live performance.

_He could’ve ruined us permanently, that motherfucking son of a bitch!_

Taka flipped his phone closed and pulled his knees to his chest. The worst of the winter has passed but the thick snow covering the ground is starting to melt, in preparation for the spring, which still gives the chilling breeze outside.

However, Taka can’t really blame the aspiring actor for leaving the band. Just like Yu’s mother had said, they’re still a band that might not even sell in the future. To the adults’ eyes, they’re just merely a _bunch of high school students_ hanging around and playing loud, eardrum-shattering music. They even have different jobs and interests—which obviously made them somewhat disconnected at the moment. Alex is still doing his modelling jobs even though he’s still in school, Toru-san and Ryota are still with Amuse and Taka, himself, is doing solo performances in live houses downtown.

_Huh..._

His eyes darted to the worn-out ceiling.

“What are we actually _doing?_ ” he blurted out, making the other three looked at him in confusion. He stared back at them, eyes glinting in determination, “I—I left everything for this band— _everyone and everything_ I’ve been doing before, even my _family name_. I plan to live with this band, sing until I can’t sing anymore, sing until the day _I die_...”

That was his dream, right? To create music and perform in front of a huge crowd—to sing as if there’s no tomorrow— _to create a name for himself_ —to finally break away from his parents’ influence.

He looked at the three with the most serious look he could pull off, “If we’re gonna do it, _we’ll do it_. If not,” he gulped, “ _quit._ ”

Nobody spoke for a long time.

Taka knew that everyone is thinking hard about his declaration. They’re gonna be taking a huge leap from here, and if no one has the same guts as him—then they’re probably better off with _disbanding_. He doesn’t need people with half-assed determination. He doesn’t need people who would stay then leave at the most _crucial time_.

Seconds turned to minutes.

The _longest_ minutes in Taka’s life.

Taka huffed, taking their silences as a resounding _NO_ , and was about to kick everyone out of his unit when someone spoke. It was Toru— _unsurprisingly_.

“L-let’s sign with Amuse,” he said in his cracking voice. Taka never knew that the day will come when he can hear the usually strong and reliable voice of their leader _crack_ like that. Taka thought that Toru is putting up a strong front, giving off a reliable aura to lead the band, even though he is still somewhat _hesitant and scared_ on the inside.

“Ryota and I have been with them since 6th grade so I think,” he swallowed down again, making Taka felt a bit of sympathy for him, “I think they’ll accept us even without a drummer...”

“Even without a drummer?!” Alex suddenly howled in laughter, making everyone stared at him in shock and confusion, “Are you joking?! That’s _crazy_! Especially coming from you, Toru! That’s _super_ crazy!” he said, his laughter dying out as he noticed that everyone is staring at him as if he finally lost his _sanity_ or something. Alex put both of his arms on the couch he’s occupying as a _horrified_ look settled on his handsome face, “It’s really, _really_ crazy—,” he gulped nervously, “but...but count me in!”

Taka and Toru let out a sigh of relief at that. Taka thought that their lead guitarist would back down because of his modelling career...now, there’s only one who needs to affirm his determination. That is...

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ryota.”

The youngest member of the band flinched when Toru-nii’s voice called his name. He really don’t know what to do. Deep inside, he knows that he would follow the older _wherever_ he wants to go, _whatever_ he wants to do, but...

_But what about me...?_

_What about my wants?_

He liked everyone in the band. He like Alex-senpai because the oldest always treat them to some things. He like Yu-senpai because he’s cool and easy to talk with, even though the older is always teasing him for being a _blushing virgin_. He like Mori-chan  because even though he gives off this scary _tyrant-aura_ , he’s actually caring and _motherly_ to them—asking them if they’ve already ate or if they want to hang out in his place. Mori-chan even took half of the responsibility in paying their studio sessions to lessen the burden on Toru-nii’s shoulders. Most importantly, he like Toru-nii because Ryota can’t probably do _anything_ without the other one around.

Without Toru-nii, he’ll be left behind with nothing but _childish dreams and a broken future_.

He... he can’t lose everyone but... _but_...

“I...” he started, his vision getting blurry from tears, “I really want to play with everyone more... I... I want to stay with this band... with – _hic!_ — everyone—with Alex-senpai, with Toru-nii, _even_ with Mori-chan—,”

“Hey, what’s with _‘even’_?!”

“Shut up, Taka-san—,”

“Awwww, Ryota-kun’s bawling—,”

“B-but sometimes,” he helplessly looked up at the older students, his eyes brimming with tears, snot flowing from his nose. He cries _messily_ —he’s aware of that—everyone is probably laughing at his pathetic appearance but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

He’s past his _limit_.

He need to let it all out or he’ll just... just explode or something!

“...sometimes, I think that I don’t fit in the... in the band— _you’re all good_ —Toru-nii’s good in both _bass_ and _guitar_ , Alex-senpai too, and Mori-chan have this pretty, _pretty_ voice while me...” a small, sad smile formed on his quivering lips, “I can’t even hear my...my own sound? My bass... I can’t hear it whenever we’re playing and I keep on thinking that... that you can probably play even without me...?”

“What?!” Mori-chan said in horror, “Don’t you _dare_ say that—,”

“Taka,” Toru-nii said in a warning tone, his head shaking to the vocalist, “Let him finish.”

“ _Hmph!_ ” Taka huffed before leaning back to his seat. Ryota took that as a sign to continue his pathetic bawling.

“S-sometimes, I think that I really didn’t fit within the band...when you’re – _hic!_ ” he hiccupped as tears flows like a waterfall from his eyes, “—playing awesomely, I always stared at your backs, thinking that, ‘ah...these – _hic!_ —people are so good—why—what am I _even_ doing here?”

That’s easy—because Toru-nii is here.

“It was just so hard and... _and_...” he burst into more tears, diving his face onto his palms and started sobbing vigorously.

He just...he just can’t take it anymore. He’s not even that attuned with everyone and now, Toru-nii wanted them to sign into some label and become an _official_ band? Heck, he _can’t even remember_ their band name in the first place!

Ryota is aware that everyone is looking at him oddly, but to his immense relief, no one spoke a thing—no words of consolations, of comforts— _just a lengthy silence_ —a silence that allow the youngest to cry his heart out, to sob his frustrations and anxiousness out, to have his very soul bare to everyone.

And he is _thankful_ for that.

After the comfortable silence between the for them, a hand finally reached to his shoulder. Ryota thought that it would be Toru-nii because the older one has one hell of timing and heart-wrenching speech in those moments—so imagine his _surprise_ when his blurry vision was met by fierce, almond-shaped eyes.

Mori-chan was kneeling in front of his seat, a sad smile plastered on his lips as he grasp Ryota’s shoulder with his right hand. “Don’t you dare such things, Ryota,” Mori-chan’s child-like yet melodious voice softly said to him.

Ryota looked at those determined eyes, wondering how this _small_ person can make such _great impact_ by mere words. His sobbing instantly faltered as he gulped, numerous times, waiting for the vocalist to finish his sentences.

“B-but—,”

“We’d be _troubled_ without you,” Mori-chan’s stern voice shut him up, his eyes widening like saucers as his mind tried to comprehend those words— _the things he desperately wanted to hear_ —, “Alex and Toru-san thinks so too, right?” Mori-chan glanced over his shoulder to the two guitarist who _eagerly_ nodded in affirmation, “so don’t think that you’ll be left behind. We’re in a band—and a band without a bassist is not really cool! We all have our part within the band—and if we left someone out, isn’t it the same as ruining our own music?”

Ryota blinked at that before looking around, searching for the confirmation in everyone’s eyes. He sniffed and dropped his head in defeat, before nodding reluctantly, “ _H-hai_...”

“So, does this means that you’re gonna stay with us?”

“ _H-hai_... if... if you’ll still have me...”

“Of course, we do,” Mori-chan huffed before straightening up, “ _Idiot._ ”

He never thought that this guy—that the _glimmering_ vocalist who’d wear fancy clothes and accessories— _the man Ryota had never wanted to do anything with_ —will be the one to utter the words he’s been craving for. Since the vocalist joined their band, Ryota never really made any efforts to communicate with the older one—he would laugh, _yes_ , when Mori-chan is arguing with the other three, but that would be the extent of it. Most of the times, he caught the vocalist looking at him oddly whenever he laugh or when he’s just in a corner and watching everybody else.

Ryota thought it was weird, but Mori-chan didn’t commented on it, either. Now that the youngest is thinking about it, it was probably the vocalist’s way of showing respect to Ryota’s reluctance in allowing him to join the band.

And today, he glanced up when a box of tissue was shoved onto his lap, looking at the vocalist in confusion, “Use that. As much as I want you being honest with yourself, you’re really a messy crier,” Mori-chan said before padding to his kitchen, “Talk to Toru-san or something. I’ll prepare a meal then we’re gonna watch a lot of DVD’s—,”

Alex-senpai immediately perked up at that, “You have porn—,”

“No, you perverted _aho!_ ” Mori-chan scowled, “It’s Ellegarden’s. We should really try to look cool on stage instead of looking like _nervous high schoolers_!”

“But we are!” Toru-nii said, “Nervous. And _high schoolers_.”

“No one asked for your opinion, jerk,” Mori-chan pointed a rather sharp knife to the rhythm guitarist. Ryota thought that the vocalist somehow fitted in the kitchen, wearing a worn out apron and scolding them while busily making a meal for everyone. Ryota blew his nose and wipe his red-rimmed eyes before crumpling the tissues, thinking how rude he was when he first met Mori-chan.

Sure, Mori-chan looks like he’s _constantly_ asking for a fight but deep, deep, _deep_ inside that scowling and tyrant-like facade, Mori-chan is actually soft-hearted and uhm... like a _motherly-figure_?

_Then, is Toru-nii the father?_

...

He snorted at that idea. He’s sure as hell that the two are straight as a ruler but sometimes... _sometimes_ , when he caught them talking as if they’ve been together since childhood, when he once caught Toru-nii affectionately ruffling Mori-chan’s hair and how the vocalist would fuss over the wrong set of clothes worn by the band leader... Ryota thinks that it _wouldn’t be bad_ if the two would actually end up together.

_Or something._

_What the hell._

“What are you giggling about?” Mori-chan suddenly said, making Ryota’s head shot up. He doesn’t even realize that he’s already laughing about loud at his absurd imagination, yet when Mori-chan saw his totally clueless and somewhat nervous face, the vocalist just sighed before looking down on his chopping board, “I heard that Toru-san tried feeding you some curry that tastes like _shit_...”

Toru-nii made an indignant grunt on his spot.

“...so we’re gonna be having curry tonight. Is that okay with you, Ryota?”

Ryota blinked. No one had asked him what he wanted to before. Sure, Toru-nii would always make him _feel_ like he have a choice but with Mori-chan...

_It’s different._

And for the first time since forming the band with Toru-nii in that cold night, Ryota felt that he’s finally _home_ —that he’s finally in a _place where he belongs to_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Yu's reason is legit.  
> -Ryota did reached his limit, but I think it was after a live?  
> -Taka's dialogue of "what are we doing?" is somewhat canon.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for the kudos~!


	17. Kagerou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really happened in this chapter. It's more of a transition again for the next one?
> 
> "Maybe I was nonchalant, but you’re the only one my eyes were chasing  
> When I think about it, I might have already fallen for you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own OOR. SAAAAAAAD.
> 
> I'm so sorry that this chapter is so short.

Toru blinked at the sight that greeted him that one particularly chilly morning. He’s in his way to school; the winter break long over, when he decided to pay a certain vocalist some early morning visit. It’s been two days since they’d last met, those days were _agonizingly_ slow for him who spent most of the time cramming his winter-break home works, and since Taka-san’s house is _somewhat_ on his route to school, he took a slight detour.

Only to be greeted by an _unfamiliar_ person.

There, standing— _leaning on the door frame_ —is a drowsy and grumpy man, wearing Taka-san’s extremely large clothes and loose pants, looking downright _murderous_ that made Toru somehow fear for his life or something.

“Uh...?” he unsurely said, taking in those short fringes barely reaching the man’s eyelids. Gone were the soft fluffy curls covering half of his face—it was now cut short, revealing the almond eyes and tall nose and the moles decorating his face, “Taka-san?”

The man gave him a dirty finger.

_Okay, definitely Taka-san._

“What the fuck are you doing here at this hour you— _urgh!_ ” the vocalist groaned when Toru’s fingers threaded into the shorter hair and unintently yanked harder, making the older screeched in pain as his head arched back, “Ugh— _you asshole_ —let go of my hai—,”

“You cut your hair, Taka-san?”

“I swear to god if you don’t put your hands away, I’m gonna _castrate you with a fucking spoon_ —,”

Toru realized the uh—rather _compromising_ composition they’re in— so he instantly retracted his hands as if he’s just been scalded by a flame. “I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean to—,”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Taka-san said as he massaged his scalp. Toru hopes that he didn’t made any permanent damage like, causing hair loss to the vocalist because Taka-san would definitely see his death if that happens, “You knocked in my place at uh—this early—just to pull my hair? Aren’t you even supposed to be in school?”

“Actually I’m on my way now...”

“And yet you’re still here in front of my door...?” Taka-san hid his yawn behind a fist before crossing his arms over his shirt-clad chest, “What do you want? I’ve already joined the band so you really have to stop with the stalking, or else,” sleepy almond eyes narrowed at Toru, “I’ll call the police. Band mate or not.”

Toru felt a smirk on his lips growing at that, “Eh, but you wouldn’t do that.”

Ah, he really likes it when Taka-san attempts to make himself scary despite his small and cute appearance.

_Wait—did I just said that—_

“I might, one of these days. Just _wait_ ,” he huffed and ran a hand through his hair while Toru’s eyes followed the motion in amazement. His eyes roamed on the older’s face, now that it’s not hidden underneath those curly locks, Toru can _shamelessly ogle_ the vocalist’s face—especially when Taka-san is fuming with anger or humiliation.

Then his eyes noticed _something_.

And before he can really think about his actions, his hand had already shot up and cupped the vocalist’s face tightly, his cheeks easily squished making Taka-san look like a gaping fish in the process.

“Whu—,”

“Are you getting _fatte_ r, Taka-san?” Toru asked in amazement as he inspected the older's face—now surrounded by smooth, flawless baby fats, “Are you eating too much ramen from that place again?”

Taka-san’s eyes widened in indignation before he lamely pushed Toru away, his slightly chubby cheeks burning with a vivid scarlet color, “What’s with you casually touching people around?! Do you know about, _let’s see_ , personal space or something?!” he asked as he massaged his jaws, totally unconscious of the reddish finger marks adorning his pale jawline.

Toru inwardly snicker at the marks left by his hold, which are a bright contrast against the vocalist’s smooth skin.

“Eh, we’re friends anyway, right?” he reasoned out, earning a sharp glare from Taka-san, “but seriously, first you cut your hair and now you’re getting more fats in your body... are you perhaps… trying to go for an image change or something?”

“I _think_ I want to stab you.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Taka-san,” he grinned making the older groaned in defeat.

“Ugh! That’s rich coming from a _stalking, touchy-feel bastard_ like you,” he hissed, rubbing his arms to create warmth from friction, “I’m not getting fat—it’s just that you’re all skinny as poles! I cut my hair because it’s getting harder to see besides...” he shrugged making Toru lean forward to catch what he’s about to say next, “It’s better to leave my previous image to the past. My dad said that—,”

“If you’re gonna do it, give it your best,” Toru nodded in understanding before ruffling the smaller teen’s hair, “If not, then quit.”

“Yeah—hey, cut it out—,”

“It looks good on you,” Toru suddenly blurt out, shocking not only Taka-san but himself as well.

Where on earth did he got those words? _Goddammit!_

His hand halted ruffling with the now messy locks and hesitantly moves back to his side, “Though I like your longer hair _more._ ”

Taka shot him a totally scandalized look, “What the actual fuck—,”

What.

_Gah!_

_What the hell?! Must divert the attention! Think!_

Toru gulped as Taka’s eyes scanned him like a laserbeams trying to burn his bones and soul.

 

“Cause it’s so soft and fluffy like... like a poodle’s!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That day, Toru learned his lessons of not comparing the small, constantly angry vocalist to a similarly small and cute dog— _especially when Taka-san shut the door_ —with so much force that the entire building even _shook_ —right on his grinning face. He left the building with a nice feeling bubbling within his chest while wondering what would be Taka-san preparing for dinner tonight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Too bad_ , Taka-san didn’t share the same sentiment and ignored him for the rest of the week.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goddamned keyboard in the office won't fucking work and now I can't fucking write during my free hours god-fucking-dammit.
> 
> While I'm writing this weeks and weeks ago, I was imagining Taka in their Yononaka Shredder DVD. I was laughing and cooing on how adorbale and cute Taka is that time. He was kinda chubby back then but he's still so cuuuuuute omfg.
> 
> Oh. Taka's birthday will be coming up next chapter~ And we'll be having a special guest~
> 
> Anyways, thanks for the kudos~


	18. CONVINCING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much OOC-ness and typo's ahead.
> 
> "I know I was not a dreamer  
> but I lost something somehow anyway!  
> I don't care 'bout what they say  
> whatever whoever tells me something  
> never stop! until the end  
> here as much as I'm broken, I'm not weak  
> it's so wrong!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taka's birthday is a divided into three parts.
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not mine.

“Let’s go fishing.”

Takahiro’s nimble fingers halted buttoning up his dress shirt when a certain _emotionless prick_ barged into his room. Taka wasn’t even surprised on the fact that Toru suddenly appeared out of thin air ( _he probably have a duplicate of my key anyways,_ ) nor to the fact that the said man is wearing a collared shirt and khaki shorts in this kind of weather—no, _not at all_.

What bothered Taka the most were the words that came out of that stupid mouth.

“What? _What the hell?_ ” he asked in confusion, looking up at the taller man, “Are you on _drugs_ , Toru-san?”

“ _Ie, Ie_ ,” the guitarist denied but Taka just watched him with unconvinced eyes, “The school will be starting next week, right? Alex-senpai told me that we really should strengthen our bond or something,” he shrugged, looking around the sole room of that unit.

Huh...School’s starting over again, huh? A lot of things sure happened these past few months. Alex managed to barely passed his subjects and actually graduated just weeks ago. He don’t want to pursue college since he’s already making money (and attracting a shit-ton of girls) because of his modelling career and you know, playing as the lead guitarist in their silly, little band.

Taka was even there during Alex’s graduation because _why the fuck not_?

They’re friends, band-mates— _almost a family_ —so it’s perfectly _natural_ to be on the man’s happiest day on earth—or something. Too bad it didn’t ended up quite _well_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Wow,” Taka rolled the diploma out and read it with sparkling eyes as if he just saw a treasure map, “I can’t fucking believe that you’re already a graduate!”

Alex snorted beside him, “Is that you’re way of telling how you’re proud of me?”

“Who says I’m proud of you?”

“Oh shit!” Ryota mumbled when he saw deadly sparks between the two oldest mmber of their band—Mori-chan and Alex-senpai are smiling—albeit _too_ widely—at each other but their eyes are obviously telling a different story like they want to murder each other any moment from now.

_Please don’t fight, please don’t fiiiiight..._

He kind of expected that Toru-nii would jump between the two raging almost-adult members but the rhythm guitarist is kind of dozing off,, while standing—WHILE MORI-CHAN AND ALEX-SENPAI STARTED CLAWING AND KICKING AT EACH OTHER—

“HOLY FUCK!” he screeched before jumping away from the two, scared that he’ll get punched or stomped onto in the process.

No one knows how it really _started_.

Taka probably had said something offensive ( _as usual_ ) and Alex probably rubbed some salt to the vocalist’s wounded – _bleeding_ —pride; and before everyone can blink, the two were already fighting like kindergarten students— _kicking and punching in the air_ while yelling as if they’re in some kind of scream fest or something—while Toru-san is still dozing off, without a _fucking care_ in the world.

In the end, Taka was the one who got all the blame. He was kinda banned from entering the campus again, you know, for causing public disturbance in the grounds. His answer was a short “ _I don’t fucking care!_ ” and a middle finger in the student council president’s face.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 “but Ryota and Alex-senpai wanted to play baseball and I really, _really_ suck at playing sports so I kinda figure out that we should just go fishing instead!” Taka was pulled out of his reveries when Toru-san continued explaining _happily_.

...

Taka looked at Toru in disbelief and amusement, “ _Seriously?_ ”

“Yup!”

...

Taka threw a worried look on the leader’s face, which is splitted by a boyish grin at the moment. He’s aware that Toru had been smoking but he can’t really tell if this asshole is also into drugs or something. If he didn’t knew that those dark circles under the guitarist’s dead eyes are caused by his multiple part-time jobs, Taka would definitely assume that this young man is _smoking pot or inhaling cocaine and other shits_ , you can find in the dark alleys of Shibuya.

Not that he knew _exactly where_ to find those substances.

_Anyway._

Taka sighed and looked down on his half-buttoned shirt, “Why would _I_ even want to go fishing with you? In fact, why do _you_ even want to go fishing?”

“To strengthen our bond?”

_Aren’t you already practically living here?! Isn’t that already strengthening whatever bond we have?!_

He glared at Toru, with a pair of totally unamused eyes. He saw Toru-san gulped audibly at that.

“Eh...to uhm, _get fish_?”

Taka was suddenly hit y this strong urge to hit the man with the nearest hard object he can hold onto.

_Jesus Christ._

_Why am I surrounded by idiots?! Why can’t I spend a single day without dealing with these dumbasses?!_

_Probably because you’re one_ , too, his mind bitterly supplied.

Ugh.

“ _Look_ , Toru-san,” he started but the man is not even looking at him anymore, instead, he’s casually lounging on the bed while flipping through Taka’s stash of rated-R magazines, “ _What the hell_ —!” he shrieked in horror before dashing to towards the man, “Stop touching my things, you perverted _brat_!”

Toru-san looked up at him with a lazy and totally perverted grin, “touching _your what_ , Taka-san—,”

“ _Mou_!” he growled, prying the magazines from the leader’s hands, “I swear that you’re a secret hentai or something! You’re just hiding it with your _gachapin_ face!” he then threw the magazines under the bed. He saw Toru-san leaned back on his hands in his peripheral vision.

“Eh, it’s not like I’m denying it...” he said in a pondering tone.

“ _Seriously?_ You’re a hentai?”

Toru-san’s lips broke in an amused grin, “What? Aren’t you the same, Taka-san?”

_Well, fair enough._

Taka shrugged and straightened up before looking to his watch. He really should make this man go away because he have an important _person_ coming over. Taka didn’t want any confrontation and awkward _“this-is-my-friend-slash-stalker-slash-band-mate”_ introduction moments in this day so the quicker Toru-san would go home, _the better_.

But no, the said man probably has no intention to disappear from Taka’s sight any sooner—in fact; Toru-san is now lying on the bed as if he _fucking owned_ it while looking on the CD’s strewn above the nightstand. And as much as Taka wants being in the younger’s company, _he really should kick this brat out or else—_

“Why are you even dressed up, Taka-san?” Toru looked up from the CD’s he’s holding, “Do you have a date or something?”

Taka was about to retort and probably scream his head off when someone knocked on his door. His eyes grew the size of the fucking solar system when he realized who probably it was.

“Oh _shit_!” he swore before running outside the room and towards the room. Toru-san followed after him, after seeing the slightly panicked and scared look on his face. The knocking on the door continues but Taka merely stand across it.

He’s starting to feel that this is a bad idea, that trying to reconnect will be a _horrific_ experience. Now that he’s thinking about it, he really should’ve cleaned more. Or maybe, he should’ve tried to dress more properly and decent enough because—

His eyes widened in horror when an arm shot from behind him and pulled the door open—‘

_Shit shit shit! You’re so gonna be dead, Toru-san_ —

—revealing a child that looks up at him, then at the guitarist behind him, before bowing down in respect, “It’s been a long time since we’ve last met, _Aniki_.”

Taka swears that he heard Toru-san’s jaws dropped to the floor with a loud _THUD!_

He, himself, is starting to sweat even though it’s still mid-April, the winter air still lingering in the Spring’s _sakura_ -filled air.

“ _H-hai_ , good to see you again, _Hiro..._ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru sat straighter as he look at the small child sitting on the couch across him. When he opened the door earlier, _without Taka’s permission_ , he was actually expecting a girl as the vocalist’s _supposedly_ date for the afternoon.

However, what he saw was...

He subtly glanced at the small boy again. Toru guessed that Taka-san’s younger brother is about 10 or 11 years old. Hiro— _Moriuchi Hiroki_ , as Taka-san introduced his brother earlier, closely resembles his _aniki_ ’s appearance and voice—but that’s the only things that they share in common. While Taka-san is brasher, rude, and acts like a spoiled princess— _prince! I mean spoiled prince!_ —most of the times, Toru can clearly see that Hiro is the exact opposite.

He sat in a perfect _seiza_ position, _which is odd since he’s sitting on a couch_ , but Toru wouldn’t say that aloud because Taka would probably murder him afterwards; his clothing style are those of rich boys in TV and he has this strange way of speaking in _Keigo_ even to his older brother.

_The perfect example of a boy who grew up in a classy and rich family._

“Sorry for the wait, Hiro,” the vocalist emerged from his room, fully dressed, and wearing a strained smile on his otherwise usually joyful face, “Sorry for the mess, too. I’m quite busy these days so...” he shrugged.

Hiro-kun nodded, “ _Ie_ , it’s fine. Being a student is probably tough already. I completely understand, _aniki_.”

Toru watched the Taka’s face, searching for any sign that he’s being offended by the younger’s overly polite way of speaking, but instead, Taka just smiled, in guilt tor sadness, the guitarist can’t really tell.

“Ah, that’s right,” he laughed, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Come on, let’s go. I promised to treat you today, right?”

_You’re lying._

_You’re not in school anymore, Taka-san._

But Toru kept his mouth shut. He could already see that the vocalist is trying his best to act normal with his brother. From what he can recall from Taka-san’s life story, his brothers were left in the custody of their father, hence why they’re still carrying the Moriuchi name, that’s why, this is probably the first time that Taka-san would be in his brother’s company since the divorce of their parents.

_Heh...that’s tough..._

Hiro blinked before glancing at him, “He’s not going with us, _aniki_?”

“Why would he be going with us?” Taka snidely asked, his foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

“Eh, but he’s your friend right...?”

“Uhm...” Taka-san glared at him as if he’s blaming the world wars, famine, and everything bad that ever happened to the world since the beginning of time, to Toru, “he’s in our _band_.”

Toru snorted at that. _Why can’t Taka-san be more proud that they’re already friends or something?_

“Then,” Hiro-kun adorably tiled his head, his hair bouncing as he did so, “he should come to celebrate your birthday with us, _aniki_?”

“ _Nani?_!” is Taka and Toru’s response at the same time, albeit for different reasons.

Taka-san is probably asking on why would Toru should be coming and barging into their family time while Toru is asking if—

“ _Today_ ’s your birthday, Taka-san?!” he asked, making the older winced, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Taka’s almond-shaped eyes frantically darted around—a habit of him when he’s guilty or is about to lie about something— “Uhm... _a-re_...”

Toru was kind of... _hurt_...

Well, this is not the first time that the vocalist had hid something important about him from Toru, but he’s somewhat hoping that Taka had already learned that he can trust him—that he can trust Toru about those things.

_Well, what do you expect, he can’t even tell that you’re friends, right?_

Toru can feel his mood draining down the gutter at the implication of his thoughts. If that’s really true, then he really should make himself scarce and stopped holding these two any longer.

“Yeah,” Hiro-kun supplied, looking up at his older brother, “why didn’t you told him, _aniki_?”

“Dam—Hiro!” Taka-san flushed in embarrassment of being chided in by his younger brother, “I just don’t want anyone to fuss over my birthday!” he reasoned out.

“Then you don’t want me celebrating your birthday with you, too?” little Hiro puff his lower lips out in a cute pout that made Toru decide that this boy can really, _really_ bring the world down just by using his charms or something.

“No!” Taka snapped, looking desperately back at him—probably thinking of a good and painful way to murder him in his sleep, “ _Fine_ , let’s bring him with us...”

“ _Yatta_!”Hiro-kun cheered in victory before latching on his brother’s arm, “the more we are, the merrier it will be, right, _aniki_?”

Taka blandly smiled, warning Toru to behave with a sharp glare, “Right... _right_...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I don’t know how to use Keigo (obviously) and write it in English (?) so uhm, Hiro’s lines were quite forced. I don’t even know that much about him coz I’m not an MFS fan in the first place BUT! I made some research. Will probably show up in the next chapter, though.  
> -I DON’T KNOW HOW HIRO ADDRESSES TAKA. But if my memory serves me right, he called Taka “Aniki” during his uh (what was that again?) testament? Declaration? During their concert in Budokan last year. I think I’ve read it somewhere in Pera Pera Sakura’s tumblr post? Whatever. Clarifications on this matter would be very much appreciated~
> 
> Thanks for the kudos~


	19. Koubou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of Taka's birthday~
> 
> "Simply simply keep on going nowhere but forward  
> If you look back, it’ll seem like you can’t return  
> Hunting for reasons to retrace your steps  
> It’s impossible to wear that trashed uniform once more"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't plan on updating today but ONE OK ROCK IS COMING TO MANILA NEXT YEAR and I'm so fucking happy omfg.
> 
> Too bad I don't have any idea how, where, when to buy tickets? I want to do it online but it requires credit cards?? DO I NEED TO HAVE ONE JUST TO BUY THE CONCERT TICKETS? AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT THIS KIND OF STUFFS? HELP MEEEE
> 
> Anyways, back to the story~
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is not mine.

Toru reluctantly followed around, as the two brothers made their way to the busy streets of the city. He learned that the two has shared a close bond even before their parents’ divorce. Hiro-kun even showed Toru some picture when they’re younger, making Toru wonder if Taka-san can smile that way again— _happy and without a care_ in the world as he lifted the small Hiro in his arms.

He also learned that Taka doesn’t mind that Hiro is using Keigo to speak with him—he didn’t even chastised the younger because apparently, they grew up speaking that way when their parents are still together.

“I just can’t do that for the rest of my life,” Taka-san laughingly said as gave a steaming waffle to his brother, “It’s not my style at all.”

Hiro-kun nodded, blowing the steam away from the sweet treat, “Aniki was always being scolded for using words like “ _Ora!_ ” “ _Aho!_ ” and “ _Teme!_ ”

Taka made a choking sound at that, probably embarrassed that he has been humiliated by his brother.

Toru smiled at that, noticing that while Taka doesn’t mind Hiro’s Keigo, the younger also doesn’t seem to be bothered by his brother’s _crude words_. He also noticed that Hiro-kun shared the same bluntness and _cruel_ honesty with his brother.

“You’re friend looks like _Gachapin_ , aniki,” Hiro deadpanned, before slurping from his milkshake. They’re currently walking through the part of the city where most of the students kill time—arcade and shops and food stalls lining the sidewalk.

“Ahahahahaha!” Taka-san burst out laughing at his brother’s statement, “ _Darou?!_ It’s his eyes, right?”

Toru tilted his head, “What’s wrong with my eyes? And what’s a _gachapin_?” he blinked cluelessly. Taka-san just grinned mischievously at him, “Not gonna saaaaay~”

“It’s the _green dinosaur with dead eyes_ , Toru- _onii-san_ ,” Hiro said.

Taka-san let out a scandalized gasp at that as he dramatically stopped walking, “Hiro!”

“ _Hai?_ ”

“Don’t do that again!”

“Don’t do what?” Hiro, again, innocently tilted his head, which reminds Toru of a small kitten trying to escape a scolding by acting like a cute fur ball, “call Toru- _onii-san_ a green dinosaur with dead eyes?”

“No!” Taka-san wildly gestured the milk tea in his hand, “Don’t call him _Toru-onii-san_ , it makes my skin _crawl,”_ he said in a dead-serious manner.

Hiro and Toru exchanged a confused look before bursting out in giggles and snickers. Taka-san made an indignant huff, “W-what’s so funny?!”

Since little Hiro-kun is still laughing like there’s no tomorrow, it was Toru who answered the vocalist with the most serious tone he could pull off—

“Y-you _ahahahaha_ should’ve hah seen your fa _-ah-_ ace _hahahaha_ —,”

—or maybe not. _Damn_ , now he’s sure that Taka-san would murder him in his sleep. But honestly, it was worth it. The look of seriousness on Taka-san’s face earlier was just too much for Toru, and apparently even for Hiro-kun who’s currently clutching at his brother’s sleeves just to stay standing upright.

“T-that was so funny, aniki hahahahahaha!”

A vivid scarlet crept up to the vocalist’s slightly chubby cheeks, “I-I’m serious! You can go Keigo to me all you want but don’t do that to Toru-san,” Taka-said afterwards, “You can call him Toru-nii-chan or something?”

“Ehhhhh~” Hiro-kun whined, averting his gaze, “But _–chan_ is only for cute things, aniki~!”

“ _Ouch_ ,” Toru winced looking at Taka-san, “Your brother’s really, _painfully_ honest huh?”

“Better than spouting pretty lies, isn’t it?” Taka-san shrugged and grabbed Hiro-kun’s smaller hands, gently intertwining their fingers, “How about Toru-san?”

“How about _Gachapin-san_?”

“Nah,” Taka-san said, “He just looks like some kind of lame _dino_ but he can really kill us. He’s secretly a yakuza, you know?”

Hiro-kun’s eyes shimmered in something awfully like admiration as he looked up at the guitarist’s uncomfortable face, “Wow! That’s...that’s so cool!”

Not really.

_Especially if your brother’s lying to your face_ , Toru thought blandly. “Don’t feed lies to Hiro-kun, Taka-san.”

But said Taka-san is no longer paying any attention to him, instead, he’s already crouching down to speak to his younger brother, “where do you want to go next, Hiro?”—completely ignoring him. Hiro-kun made a small pout, making some of the female students passing by go “ _awwww~!_ ” at the cute gesture.

“How about the arcade, aniki? Father won’t let me go there, well, not until I’m in high school,” the child said, making Taka-san smile turn into a tight one. It looks like just the mention of their parents is still a sore topic to the vocalist, huh?

“I suck at gaming shi— _things_ ,” Taka-san awkwardly cleared his throat in an attempt to censor his words; “things like that but let’s give it a try, _ne_?”

“Yay!”

“How about you, Toru-san?” Taka-san glanced over his shoulder, asking the guitarist as if he really has choice in the matter, “You’re coming with us, right?”

Toru opened his mouth to finally say something but Hiro-kun beat him into speaking, “Of course, he is coming along, onii-sama.”

“Eh, cool!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And that’s how Toru ended up getting frustrated in front of a crane arcade. He’s not really into this kind of things; in fact, this is Ryota’s forte, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t give it a try. Especially when there’s a _certain vocalist_ who wants that giant Doraemon plush toy for himself but is too scared that he will use up all his coins in trying— _and yes, I’m glaring at you, Taka-san_.

“Fuck!” he cursed when the crane pushed yet another wrong toy into the hole, “Is this shit broken or what?! Why can’t it fucking go the way I want it to?!” he said, watching as the crane went back to its starting position as if it doesn’t just crashed all of Toru’s _dreams and dignity_.

“Holy crap, man,” Taka-san said beside him, “can you cut off some of your _shitty language_? My brother’s still here, remember?”

Of course, Toru is still aware that the _mini-Taka-san_ is somewhere around them, but fuck if he cares. Beating this crane arcade and getting that _blue-cat-from-the future_ toy is more important.

“It’s not like he minds it,” he confidently said while fishing out another coin without looking away from the glass display, “Right, Hiro-kun?”

“ _Absolutely_ , Toru-nii-san,” Hiro-kun answered somewhere beside him as he pulled a yet another “ _failed_ ” toy from the machine, “So long as you _continue failing_ and getting me more of these cute little things, I will not mind even if you have the mouth as dirty as the _public sewer_.”

“Heh,” Toru glanced sideways at the shell-shocked Taka-san, “See, Taka-san? It’s not even a day and Hiro-kun and I are already thinking along the same line.”

“I’ll fucking kill you if Hiro caught your shits, asshole,” he huffed, looking down at the variety of plush toys on his younger brother’s small arms, “Why are you even getting excited with those, Hiro? You can just buy them to the store with your allowance, right?”

“Eh? But they’re free, and I can always tell the others that I got this from the legendary arcade shop!” he giggled, hugging the toys tighter, “Then more girls will like me!”

...

Toru can imagine the “ _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_?” look that’s probably plastered on Taka-san’s face at that moment. He really wants to see it but he’s too busy on jerking the control to make it go towards Doraemon’s head.

_Just a bit more... just a bit more..._

He waited until the crane went slightly passed the blue toy then he slammed the button down and waited.  That agonizing five seconds are probably the most _terrifying_ and slowest five seconds of his life. Three pair of eyes anxiously watched the crane as it _oh-so slowly_ descends and—pushed Doraemon forward, making it softly tumble into the hole.

“Who— _yoshaa!_ ” Toru pumped his fist in victory while Hiro-kun bounced animatedly on his spot.

“Wow! That is so cool! Toru-nii-san is so cool!”

Meanwhile, Taka-san is giving them odd looks, probably wondering how two boys can get that excited and pumped up just because of a stupid arcade game. It took about two minutes before Toru and Hiro-kun finally calmed down— _which means that it also took two agonizing minutes for Taka-san to watch them jump and bounce around while screaming and giggling like children with an acute case of ADHD_.

“Ah, that was... fun,” Toru’s smile falter when he saw the impatient look on the older’s face, “What’s wrong?”

“Aniki probably just need to go to the bathroom,” Hiro-kun deadpanned, making the guitarist burst into another giggling fit, before crouching down to take the blue toy out of the machine.

“I’m not! _Mou_ , Hiro, you’re getting this man’s stupid air-headedness you know? Mom will definitely kill me,” Taka-san made a totally horrified look, “And _I’m going to die_.”

“Calm down, aniki, no one is going to die,” Hiro-kun said before looking at the giant round face of the blue cat. Toru felt himself sweat at the intense gaze the youngest is giving to the toy. He was really planning to give it to Taka-san, hell, he tried that game just because the vocalist said he wanted some doraemon stuff in the first place.

_But if Hiro-kun wants it...then..._

Toru should probably think of other— _better_ —things to give Taka-san for his birthday. But Taka-san is practically born with a silver spoon in his mouth so material things are already out of the question.

_Maybe I should just buy him some porn magazines...?_

Toru tilted his head as he think about the huge collection of x-rated magazines back in the older’s apartment. Judging by those _towering_ stacks, Taka-san probably have every copy of every known magazine in the market, so buying those as a gift is also a big _no-no_.

_Wait—is it even acceptable to give those kind of magazines as a birthday present?_

_Hmmm...probably not._

But Toru is running out of ideas. He guess that he can try cooking for the vocalist, like the things he saw on TV, but that would just _definitely_ kill Taka-san because of food poisoning, _violent_ case of diarrhea or something related to his _god-awful and non-existent_   cooking skills.

Toru started to inwardly panic. They really _should’ve_ gone fishing. He could give the fishes they would catch to Taka-san and ask him to cook it or make it a pet or _something_. It’s kind of lame but it’s better than killing the both of them by his _disastrous kitchen-shits_.

“— _ru-san_? Earth to Toru-san?” Toru was pulled out of his stupor when Taka-san flicked his forehead, “Are you still with us?”

Toru looked around, noticing that Hiro-kun is looking up at him in worry while the vocalist is raising a brow, asking for an explanation while holding the Doraemon toy in his left arm, “Uh...what was that again?”

Taka-san let out an exasperated sigh, as if he’s too fed up with Toru’s constant daydreaming stunts these past few weeks. He then looked down on his younger brother, “Don’t mind him, Hiro, he’s just easily lost in his thoughts. Some kind of airhead. Come on, let’s look for a more fun game here, okay?”

Toru gulped. Taka is holding the toy. He didn’t know if Taka-san would bring the prize home but he was already glad that it was in the vocalist’s arms. He suddenly felt this giddy, warm feeling within him— _which is kind of weird_ since he’s just thinking about a stuff toy, not a brand new Les Paul guitar.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I can’t fucking believe that you lost in that game,” Taka-san fumed as he brought their little group into a bench in the shopping strip. Hiro-kun is still laughing at Toru’s demise while the said guitarist is hanging his head down in shame, shoulders slumping forward as he stared helplessly at his open, calloused hands.

“ _Hai._ ”

“It’s a _guitar_ game, Toru-san.”

“ _Hai_ ,” Toru just wanted to crawl under a rock and _die_. It’s not really a big deal, but the way he scream and curse the machine earlier for apparently fucking up his scores is something to be ashamed for.

“And now, we’re banned from that arcade shop,” Hiro-kun dramatically said, looking down on the paper bags laid neatly in front of their bench, “just because Toru-nii-san cannot accept his defeat. _Ah_ , how would I bring my future girlfriend there?”

Taka-san said—

“There’s a lot of arcades in Shibuya.”

—at the same time that Toru muttered—

“You’re not even in the right age to have a girlfriend,” Toru then turned and raised an inquisitive brow at the vocalist, “You’re not bothered that your brother is already thinking of those things, Taka-san?”

Taka san huffed and waved his hand dismissively, “Nah. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love at that age, right Hiro?”

“Hai!”

“There’s really something wrong with your _parenting skills_ , Taka-san.”

“Who says I have any parenting skills?”

_You say that but you’re practically the mother figure in our band._

“Anyway, enough of this shits. Hiro can date _whoever and whenever_ he wants to,” he concluded before stretching out his muscles, “Let’s have dinner before I drop you to the station, Hiro.”

Hiro solemnly looked down on his watch before looking up at his brother again, “I would really love to, aniki, but Father said that I should be at home before eight tonight...and it is already 7:30...” he said, a small, sad smile playing on his lips.

Toru watched as Taka’s expressions instantly soured at the mention of their father. In fact, he even expected that the vocalist would explode into a ranting fit about curfews and about their parents but no, Taka-san merely gave a bitter smile at his brother.

“That’s too bad, _ne_?” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he glanced around. Toru took a subtle glimpse at the younger Moriuchi, noticing that the energetic boy earlier was nowhere to be found—instead, Hiro-kun is slumping, his legs dangling back and fro on the bench while his nimble fingers nervously fidgeted on the hem of his sweater.

Seems like he’s also anxious about getting separated from his brother again...

“Ah!” both of their heads whipped to the direction of the vocalist, “I’ll just buy you some treats! Just wait here with Toru-san, okay?” Taka-san said, shoving the blue plush toy to Toru’s face before jogging away—towards a nearby bakeshop.

Toru watched in amusement how cute Taka-san is, running around and getting pushed off by the sea of people. He’d bet that the vocalist is currently _pouting_ and _huffing_ and _muttering_ about murdering all the people or something along those lines. He unconsciously hugged the Doraemon toy, burying his face in the soft fabric in an attempt to hide the snicker on his lips.

“Aniki is a really sweet person,” Hiro-kun suddenly said beside him, “don’t you think so, Toru-nii-san?”

Toru was silent for a moment. Well, it’s really sweet for Taka-san to spend his birthday with his youngest brother. He even let Hiro decide where to go, what to eat, and now, he’s going to buy treats for his brothers—even though he was supposed to be the one getting gifts for his special day.

“ _Hai..?”_

“He is just weird sometimes, no,” Hiro-kun hid his childish giggles behind a fist, “ _most of the times_. Did you know that Father had caught him whispering and screaming to a song back in middle school? He was listening to this, uh, song of... _HIDE_?” he looked up for confirmation.

“Ah, I know that one,” Toru nodded, mentally noting that Taka-san really have good taste in music, “I’ve seen most of their music videos.”

“Whoa! That is so cool!” Hiro-kun cheered before going back to his story, “Anyway, aniki was watching this music video with a weird girl without clothes— _or so Father told me_ —and aniki was muttering _’PINK SPIDER’ ‘PINK SPIDER’ ‘PINK SPIDER’_ while he’s alone. Father thought that he is possessed by an evil spirit! He got a beating because of watching those kinds of videos afterwards!”

“Wow...” Toru spoke slowly, not really sure where this conversation is heading to. He just kind of feel bad for Taka-san who got a beating just because of watching a rock music video. He suddenly felt lucky about having an understanding parents and circle of friends...

“Our parents,” Hiro-kun entangled his fingers in a nervous manner, “I don’t know if aniki had already told you, are famous in the music industry. They are enka singers so they really don’t appreciate the type of music aniki wanted to listen and sing to, you know?”

Toru just hummed in response, allowing the boy to talk.

“Father didn’t want us to go into the TV world because it’ll be hard, he said,” Hiro pursed his lips in an abvious disagreement with their father’s statement, “But aniki said that he wants to, and he did it. He really, really worked hard for it...even if it caused several problems in our house...”

Toru felt a lump forming at his throat at the sight of a sad Hiro. He’s not really good with children, and judging by the boy’s body language, he’s probably gonna burst into tears any moment from now.

_Shit, Taka-san, hurry the fuck up, would you?!_

“Is... is that why he ran away from home?”

Hiro slowly shrugged, “I really don’t know. When our parents divorced, aniki is already... _how do I put this_ , doing wrong and immature things?”

“Is that your parents telling you?” Toru can’t keep himself from asking.

“Hai,” Hiro nodded, “Everything was so intense back then. Mother and Father would fight. Father and aniki would fight. Everyone was fighting. And then one day, Mother said that Tomo-nii and Hiro-kun will be staying with our Father from then on—that she is going to take aniki with her because they are going for a divorce,” Hiro-kun’s voice slightly cracked at that, reminding Toru of a certain vocalist’s voice whenever he’s about to let out all the hidden and suppressed emotions within him.

Toru didn’t spoke a word, he just hummed in acknowledgement, silently telling the younger to continue.

“Aniki—he, he didn’t cry that day. He was just angry and shouting about how our parents didn’t think about their children. He kept on asking our parents if they want their children to grow up without a complete set of parents, just like how everyone has...”

Even through the soft dusk light, Toru can see how Hiro-kun’s little hands shake as he spoke.

“But then, our parents’ decision was final and no matter how hard we cried, they didn’t listened to us. Before they go, aniki hugged me and Tomo-nii and told us that he is going to meet us all the time, and that he is sorry for being an _awful brother and a rotten child_...” Toru glanced away when he saw the fat glob of tears rolled down on Hiro-kun’s flushed cheeks.

“H-he hold on to that promise, but after his first year in high school, he... he suddenly disappeared,” Hiro hiccupped, “Mother said that he is with our grandmother. Father said that he continues on being a stubborn brat. Tomo-nii said that we should just study harder so that we can search for our brother but... but... I don’t want _that_... I... just want to be with my _brother!_ I just want to call him _onii-chan_ like before! Why can’t they _understand_ it?! I just want to be with _onii-chan_ , eating, sleeping, going to school—,”

Toru winced at that. Taka-san should really be honest with his brother about that matter.

“—playing around, finding cute girls and listening to music everyday— _I want to do all of that with onii-chan! I want my onii-chan baaaack!!!_ ”

And just like that, Hiro-kun wailed as if someone had killed his puppy or something. Toru was now totally in panic, especially when almost everyone is giving them odd looks. They’re probably thinking that he made this cute, rich-looking boy, cry—and the police will believe it because of his looks and scary eyes again.

_Taka-san where the hell are you?! Did the cakes and pastries ate you or something?!_

Toru is sweating like hell, even though it is still the start of spring, and is about to run to the nearest police station to ask the officers to look for a certain Morita Takahiro when a familiar fluff of short-trimmed hair caught his gaze.

_Finally!_

Taka-san emerged from the sea of people, breathless, while holding a box of cakes, “Ah, damn, those _gyaru_ piece of shit scaring the hell out of me—,” he muttered as he panted for air before straightening up, “sorry for the wa— _why are you crying, Hiro_?!”

The box of cake was promptly shoved into Toru’s face, again, when Taka-san knelt in front of his wailing brother. The vocalist was surprised when the younger attacked him with a _bone-shattering_ hug.

“H-hey,” Taka-san reluctantly hugged his brother back, “What’s wrong Hiro? Did...Did Toru-san did something to you?!”

Toru was then attacked with vicious glares and sharp gaze from the vocalist.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to Hiro-kun—,”

“Then why the fuck is he crying like this?! I was gone for just— _what_ —2 minutes and then he’s already sobbing like you stole his candy!”

“Actually, you’re gone for _10 full minutes_ —,”

_“The fuck if I care!”_

Toru winced when Taka-san snapped angrily at him, gathering the attention of more people. Now, Toru’s sure that he’ll end up in jail tonight. Taka-san would definitely make sure that he ‘d be rotting in a cell if Hiro-kun will still remain with his silence.

“Hey, Hiro,” Taka-san suddenly switched with his _overly protective brother_ tone, “What’s wrong? Tell me, please?”

But Hiro-kun is just as stubborn as his brother, in admitting their feelings in front of other people so Toru put it on himself to tell the truth, or else, they’ll gonna spend the night here with more _sobbing and screaming._

“He says he misses you, Taka-san,” Toru offhandedly said, making both of the brothers stiffened in surprise, “He says that he wants you back, that he wants to be with you every day from now on.”

A strained silence ensued, with Hiro’s soft sobs and hiccups filling the air between them. Taka, still too shocked at the revelation, slowly raised an arm and ran his hand over Hiro’s back in a comforting manner.

“Is that true, Hiro...?”

Seconds passed before Hiro finally nodded, his face still buried into his beloved aniki’s chest.

“Ah,” Taka-san softly chuckled, his laugh is like music to Toru’s ears— _so soft and angelic yet raspy and manly at the same time_ , “But we can always hang out together? Like now—,”

“No!” Hiro snapped, pushing himself off the eldest, revealing his flushed, tear-streaked face, “I want to live with you! I want to see you every day, like before! I want to see you, listen to you sing, and make music with your new friends!”

Taka’s face split into a boyish smile, and even though he is smiling, Toru can easily see through the crack on the armor he’s wearing—he can easily see, just by the sight of those glassy eyes, that Taka-san is also with-holding his tears—to make him look strong in front of his adorable little brother.

“Eh, but you know we can’t, Hiro—,”

“But why _Toru-nii-san can_?!” Taka and Toru made a choking sound at the same time, “Why is he always at your house? Why are you always cooking for them?! Why are you always singing with them?!” he cried, tears relentlessly cascading on his cheeks like a waterfall, “D-don’t... _Don’t you love me anymore_?”

_Oh shit._

_Not that card!_

Taka’s eyes instantly widened at that, “What?! No!” he said, voice cracking a bit, “You know that’s not true, Hiro. I love you and Tomohiro the _most_ , remember?”

“But then, why are... why don’t you want me to...?”

Taka softly smiled, gently gathering his brother into his arms again, “Because that’s not how the world works. You see, I’m not the perfect brother in the world—,”

“You are!”

“—you’ll realize it soon, when you grow up... You’ll see how selfish I am, how rude and brash and rotten down to my very bones—,”

“You’re not— _not_ —,”

Toru wanted to also yell at Taka, to pound into the vocalist’s head that while it’s probably true—while he is a rude, brash, and rotten teen, Taka-san is still one of the gentlest and kindest person he’d ever met in his life.

“—give it a few more years, two, _three, five_ ,” Taka-san let out a hollow, cheerless laugh, “You’ll realize that you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You wouldn’t want to follow my steps anymore because of the things I did...” he bitterly said before perking up, “Actually, I was kinda anxious in meeting you today, you know?”

_Nice move, Taka-san. Nice move._

Hiro-kun pulled back a bit to look up at his brother’s face, “Wh—why?”

“Coz I thought that you’ve grown out on me. We haven’t met for what? Three years? I thought that you’ve forgotten about me and that things will go, you know,” Taka shifted nervously, “awkward between us?”

Hiro-kun blinked away the remaining tears before searching his brother’s eyes for any hint of lie, “You mean... you can also get scared, onii-chan?”

Taka burst out laughing at that, “Of course _! Even Kamen Rider_ gets scared!” he said ruffling the younger’s hair. Meanwhile, Toru gulped nervously upon hearing that hero’s name—memories of his little attempts on acting resurfacing in his consciousness and making him want to just curl up in shame or something.

“Are you okay now?” he asked, making Hiro nod, “Good. Don’t rub your eyes, it’ll get swollen like that.”

“But it huuuuuurts...”

“That’s what you get for crying like a baby,” Taka said then turned to Toru, as if he just realized that they’re not alone in this world and that the guitarist is still, well, _there_ , “Oh. You’re still... _existing_?”

Toru forced a smile on his face, “As much as I want to leave you two to yourselves, I really can’t because you shove these things to me?”

Taka-san’s face lit up at the sight of the cake box, “Oh, I bought you and Tomohiro some cakes! The ladies said that they’re their best!” he happily said, easily throwing the sad ambiance around them off, as he grab the box and put it onto Hiro-kun’s lap, “Don’t forget to give Tomo his share, okay?”

“ _It’s not as if I’m going to eat all of these!”_

“Eh, but you have the habit of using your charms to get more slices back in our home, remember?” Taka teasingly said which made the younger flush in embarrassment

“You’re the one who acted like a baby when Tomo-nii was born!” Hiro-kun accused with a cute pout. ?!” Toru was expecting that Taka would call that a bluff but no, considering the vocalist’s horrified and embarrassed expressions, he can easily tell that it’s most certainly true.

“What?! How did you know that? You’re not even born at that time!”

_Really, Taka-san? Talk about being a huge attention-seeker..._

“Mother told me that before! You suddenly wants to be babied even if you’re not the actual _baby_!”

“Gah!” Taka-san let out a humiliated grunt at his brother’s declaration.

Toru, was once, again, left out to _rot in the background_. But that’s fine with him. He’s surprisingly content just by watching the two bicker and laugh genuinely, as if they’re not crying their eyes out ( _well, at least at Hiro-kun’s part_ ) just _minutes_ ago. He suddenly had this urge to call his older brother, to ask him about his life, his fiancé...and _maybe hang out one of these days_...

“It’s getting late,” Taka-san suddenly said, finally letting go of a completely pouting and huffing Hiro-kun, before squinting down on his phone, “Let’s call Father to take you home.”

“What? No,” Hiro immediately protested, “I can just take the subway—,”

“No buts, Hiro,” Taka-san waved a finger at his brother, surprising Toru with the gentle yet stern tone he used, “You’re legs are tired and you have these bags to carry around. As much as you want to assume, you’re still a short, pre-teen boy, remember?”

“I’m still _growing_!”

“ _Hai, hai,_ ” Taka-san laugh before glancing away, his face instantly falling into a somber mood as he dialled their Father’s number, “Hello? This is _Takahiro_ ,” Toru blinked as Taka-san suddenly switched into speaking in Keigo— the formal words seem foreign and sounds off coming from his lips—, “ _It’s been a while, Father..._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Taka has this fascination with Doraemon. He’s constantly comparing himself with Nobita, you know, for being stupid...someone who can’t be helped... He even drew a doodle of Doraemon on his wrist!  
> -I don’t intend to make Papa and Mama Mori to be seen as bad parents, however, the plot calls for it. Besides, most of the info I’ve written in this chapter are almost similar to what Taka had said in the interviews (especially from the Rockin on Japan June 2012 issue—translated, again, by the wonderful ryeon on tumblr). Besides, Taka is still in his younger, rebellious years making his outlook on his parents somewhat immature. I’m glad that he overcame it in his later years : )  
> -Taka acting like a baby when Tomohiro was born is legit. I think it’s from a translated part [by Pera Pera Sakura] of Mama Mori’s book.  
> -The PINK SPIDER part was based on NHK FM ONE OK ROCK Sound Creators File : Taka's First File. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baCkG5gSeY4  
> -Again, I really don’t know how anything how Hiro acts nor talk so forgive me if this Hiro is not quite the same as the real one.  
> -Feedbacks are always encouraged~
> 
> Thanks for reading~


	20. Melody Line no Shibouritsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part of Taka's birthday~! (fucking finally)
> 
> "Spread your dreams and show the power of infinity  
> That's why we have so much ahead  
> We make the future with the sound that we love  
> Two words become one!"

“Are you sure you’re not gonna meet him?” Toru asked, a cigarette dangling from his lips, as they watched Hiro-kun climb into the backseat of an obviously expensive car. He’s being assisted by a man which he assumed is Taka-san’s father. Toru felt the stress of the day eating him so he’s really _really_ craving for a smoke, but since he promised Taka-san that he wouldn’t smoke anywhere near the vocalist, the cigarette remain unlit.

Taka-san is also looking at the car driving away, his right hand shoved into the pockets of his pants while the doraemon toy is being gripped by his left one, “Nah. I’m not really in the mood to meet him today,” he said before glancing at him, “You know you really don’t have to force yourself on my account. Just fucking smoke whenever you want to.”

“But it’s _bad_ for your health.”

Taka-san shot him a dirty look, “If you know that, then you should’ve stopped by now.”

“Nah,” Toru said before pulling the cigarette away and crushing it between his fingers, “I need these to reduce my daily stress of dealing with _immature kids_.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Taka said through clenched teeth, “I _hope_ you fucking die early.”

Toru hummed in response as he looked up in the scarlet sky, tinted with swirls of orange and purples. The breeze is cool, a reminiscent of the previous winter season, but with the scent of cherry blossoms which are currently in full bloom in Tokyo.

_We should’ve gone to Hanami…_ Toru thought remorsefully as he glanced at the older.

Taka-san doesn’t look like he’s enjoying the day any longer. In fact, the moment Hiro turned his back; the vocalist had gone back into his usual, scowling self. It seems that he was only putting up a brave and jolly façade in front of his younger brother to assure Hiro that he’s doing fine.

_When are you going to stop lying, Taka-san?_

Toru huffed, putting his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “Why didn’t you tell us that today’s your birthday?”

“Why _should_ I?”

“Aren’t we friends or something?”

“ _Friends_ , huh?” Taka-san made a small, bitter smile as he looked at the busy shopping area. His pair of dark orbs glistened with unshed tears as he stared at nothing in particular, “That’s _right_...” he murmured mostly to himself.

Toru just stared at the shorter teen. He can’t really understand the vocalist. His mood swings like a _fucking pendulum_ —one moment he’s angry and huffing like someone had killed his puppy and then the next second, he’ll be quiet and matured—observing everything and everyone in his surroundings. He can be scary when angered or just when he’s frustrated over something, but he will always prepare something for everyone. He always complains about the band hanging out in his unit and yet, he still made them delicious meals and sweet treats every time.

_Morita Takahiro is like a giant puzzle._

And somehow, Toru had this strange feeling that _he should be the one to conquer him_. There’s this feeling of wanting to _unravel_ Taka-san’s thick layers and layers of armor, to _knock_ those walls down, and to finally see the _real_ Takahiro hiding beneath those facade.

He wanted to reach out, with his calloused hands, to the vocalist. He wanted to hold him, tell him that it’s _okay_ to trust someone again, that it’s okay to rely on others, to make friends, to be confident again.

He wanted to ruffle those soft-looking hair _oh-so badly_ —

“W-what?!”

Toru blinked at the vocalist’s indignant squeak, noticing how his hand is poised in the air, as if he’s _really_ gonna touch the smaller teen’s head. Taka looked up at him in confusion, then in anger, before bursting out.

“What the hell?!” he said, subtly inching backwards, away from Toru, “Are you alright? You look as if you’re torn between _wanting to hit me and bursting into tears_ earlier!”

…

_Shit!_

_I almost messed up!_

Good thing he was pulled out of that daze, or else, Taka-san would probably go all out _kung-fu_ at his ass if he dared to touch him at this moment, practically in front of everyone. _Not that Taka-san would let Toru touch him if they’re in a private place or something…_

When Toru didn’t respond, Taka-san peek up at him curiously, his brows knitting in worry, “Seriously, are you alright? Do you want to go _home_ and eat dinner? I’ll even make a Chinese-style fried rice  for tonight...so don’t be _uh_ , sad?”

Toru glanced down at the vocalist, as his heart _madly_ beats beneath his chest.

_Morita Takahiro is indeed like a puzzle._

Taka-san can look and act like a selfish, spoiled brat but sometimes... _most of the times_ , Taka-san is the kindest, most considerate and affectionate guy friend _he’d ever met_ in his life.

“Yeah...” he sighed, smiling as _softly_ as he can, “let’s go _home_ , Taka.”

The vocalist lifted his gaze up at him. He had this totally _weirded-out_ look because it’s the second time he called him without any honorifics; but, _thankfully_ ,  he didn’t say anything against it. Instead, he merely nodded, a small smile playing on his full lips, “ _Yosha!_ ”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was when they passed an animal shop when Toru was struck with this _magnificent_ idea.

“I know!” he blurted out, making Taka—who’s humming the tune of _Moshimo Taiyou Ga Nakunatta Toshitara_ beside him—jumped in surprise.

“ _What is it now_ —,”

“I’m gonna buy a fish!” he declared, before going inside the shop. Taka followed soon after, muttering curses and things that sounded like:

“Are you still mad about the failed fishing trip earlier you idiot—,” before walking towards where the guitarist is standing. Toru looked at two small _arwana_ fish swimming inside that too large aquarium.

“I’m gonna buy these two for you!” he declared. Taka immediately shot him a nasty look.

“What am I even gonna do with these? You can’t eat this type of fish, _aho!_ ”

“ _You’re the idiot_ , Taka,” he said, making the older glare at him, “I’m giving these to you so you can keep them as _pets_.”

...

“ _Why would I even want to have a pet?!”_

Toru tilted his head before giving the most obvious answer he can think of, “So that you’ll become less lonely when you’re alone in your unit— _itai_!” he screamed when Taka decided to launch an attack on his stomach with his elbow, “What’s that for!”

Taka turned around, already walking towards the door of the shop.

“That’s what you get for assuming that I easily get lonely!” he said, waving a dismissive hand. Toru pursed his bottom lip at the older’s nonchalant reaction about his birthday gift. He really thought that this would make the vocalist somewhat _happy_.

_I mean, who doesn’t like fish?_

They’re quiet and don’t need extensive attention and caring.

_Besides they’re tasty if you grilled them during camping._

_But Taka said that we can’t eat this type..._

Toru’s shoulder sagged in defeat.

Maybe he should’ve just drop this _pathetic_ attempt to have a good gift for the vocalist? It’s not like he will appreciate anything that comes from me anyway so...

“Are you gonna stand there forever or you’re gonna buy those fish so we could finally go home and, _I don’t know_ , have dinner coz I’m already starving here?!” Taka’s loud voice echoed in that small shop making Toru instantly perked up. Taka is standing by the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest as his foot impatiently tapped onto the floor—all while averting his gaze from the guitarist.

“Oh! You _secretly_ want to have pets, right—,”

“Shut up! I’m gonna _flus_ h them in the toilet as soon as you leave my unit!” he glared, instantly shutting Toru up.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Shit, why are you all so slow!” Taka complained as he watched the others packed their instruments inside their cases. Toru looked up at the vocalist, noticing how Taka is practically bouncing on his feet with impatience.

“Well _excuse us_ for actually having instruments to take care of,” Alex-senpai said, smirking, as he _purposely_ slowed down in zipping up his guitar case earning a murderous glare from the vocalist.

“Do you really want to fight you huge bast—,”

“ _Maa, maa, maa_!” Ryota immediately went between the two oldest members of the band, “We’re all tired and it’s already morning so please calm down?” he winced when Taka merely huffed, his awful mood swings kicking up again, “What’s wrong, Mori-chan? Do you need to use the toilet that _bad_?”

Alex-senpai instantly doubled over and howled in laughter at that.

The three other members stared at the lead guitarist as if he lost his _fucking_ mind. It was Ryota who looked away from the half-American  who is still clutching his stomach while laughing so hard.

“So…why are you in a hurry, Mori-chan?”

Toru subtly sharpened his hearing at that. He is also somewhat curious on the vocalist’s unusual impatience. Well, it is already a well-known fact the Taka hated being late just as much as he hated people being late for practice— _yeah, I’m talking about you, Alex-senpai_ —but he’d never seen the vocalist to be this _...restless_ over something.

“I’ve forgotten to feed Hiroshi and Takashi,” Taka murmured in a horrified tone.

Toru’s brows knitted in confusion at that. He is not aware that Taka have other friends outside of their band— _not that I’m saying that Taka is incapable of making friends but_ —

“Uh...who’s that?” Ryota asked.

“My fishes,” Taka said, his almond-shaped eyes glinting in pride, “They’re _cute!_ You should see them!”

Alex-senpai, who just recovered from his laughing fit, suddenly barged into the conversation, “You bought a fish as a pet? _Whoah!_ ”

“I did not!” Taka denied, averting his gaze towards the floor of the rehearsal studio, “It’s a gift... from a _friend_ ,” he muttered.

...

_I thought you said you’re gonna flush them...?_

_..._

Toru brought his gaze back into his guitar case, his lips forming a satisfied smirk that eventually turned into a _full blown_ smile. He zipped his case before lifting up his gaze, grinning like a _fool_ to the vocalist.

“Let’s go _home_ then, Taka.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I think Toru has this fascination for fishing since instead of playing sports, like the trio always do, he went fishing with Taka in Wakayama where all the fishes they caught died. You can find it here at FM Ehime Telephone Service part 5. Translations are obviously not mine.  
> -I would want the “Taka-owning-fishes” to be legit. I found this at FM Ehime Telephone Service part 7.  
> -Toru’s gift is really lame LOL.
> 
> Feedbacks are always appreciated~!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	21. YAP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer and School Festival~!
> 
>  
> 
> "Should I take it to be happy?  
> Do you think that it is better way?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably the most-slice-of-life part of this story. Just wanted to have more band-interaction within school~!
> 
> Forgive me for errors, loopholes, and OOC-ness.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summer is great. It’s the perfect season for _Somen_ noodles, watermelons, and ice cream!

Summer is also for school festivals. Everyone can have fun, clubs can get funds from their booths and most of all, there will be no classes for days. Takahiro heard that this is the perfect time to fool around, steal kisses in some random corners and eat his heart out without getting pushed around in the cafeteria. Taka has never been enthusiastic about these kind  of events because he always hang out with people outside of school— _he spent so much time skipping classes and fooling around in Shibuya that he can’t even remember his classmates names_ —or worse, even their faces.

So when he discovered that Toru-san and Ryota’s school would be having their s school festival, he was _more than ecstatic_ to come.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here, Taka-san?” is Toru-san’s ever loving greeting to him the moment he showed up on the school’s gate.

Taka takes a good glimpse at the taller teen—Toru-san is wearing a long, black cape that covers his entire uniform. It was really hilarious to find some deathly pale, cape-wearing _vampire-wannabe_ in broad daylight in front of the school gate. In fact, Taka even had to lift a fist to his mouth to prevent himself from bursting into a massive _giggling fit_.

“What are you supposed to be, Toru-san? A _vampire_?”

“That’s really none of your concern, Taka-san,” he said in an obviously irritated tone, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in your part-time work or something?”

Taka waved a dismissive hand, “Hey, I didn’t ask you about school whenever you showed up at my door step during school hours, _did I_? Besides, the school gates are open for visitors for the festival, right?”

“ _Wrong._ ”

“So, are you really a vampire, Toru-san?” he said, _blatantly ignoring_ the pissed off tone that the guitarist rarely used to him before looking around at the wide of variety of stalls in the open ground. He can see food stalls, club booths and some weird collection shits that he would surely visit later. Or when Toru-san decided to stop being a goddamn _barrier_ between Taka and the fun of high school life.

“You remember that you’re _banned_ from stepping into the campus, right, Taka-san?”

“What was that?” he said, conveniently ignoring the younger’s sharp glares, “You’re gonna tour me around the school? That was very nice of you Toru-san!” he said with an ear-splitting grin. Since his birthday, the two of them somehow adapted a nice, light atmosphere. By light atmosphere, he means that they can _fuck with each other without actually fearing for their own lives._

“I’m not—,”

“However!” he blurted out as he saw a familiar girl approaching them, “Mika-chan here will be the one who’s gonna tour me for today!” he said, earning a shocked look from the guitarist. As if _magically_ summoned, a girl with long hair sauntered by his side. He can see the shell-shocked expression on Toru-san’s face at that revelation.

“ _The fuck is this Mika-chan?!”_ Toru-san asked in surprise, before looking at the said girl from head to toe, “What the _hell?”_

Taka would really love to laugh his lungs out at the younger’s expression, but since he’s currently with a girl, he stopped himself. Instead, he put his arms around Mika-chan’s shoulder to pull her closer, “That’s quite rude even for you, Toru-san! This is Mika-chan, she’s a fan! We’ve met in a live and exchanged numbers and _tadah!_ ” he gestured a hand between them and the suddenly shy girl as if it actually explains _everything_.

Toru-san gave him a blank look as if Taka had just asked for _both_ of his kidneys.

After a minute of being under those dead eyes’ scrutiny, Taka decided that it’s about damn time to move away from this _gachapin_ or they’ll probably spent the entire day staring ( _and glaring_ ) at each other because of Toru-san’s infamous obstinacy.

“ _Sore ja!_ I’ll meet you later, Toru-san~!” he said, waving at the expressionless man, who’s still staring at nothing, before walking into the campus with the girl tagging along beside him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru should’ve known that Taka-san would come up with the _most brilliant_ plan to _further_ fuck up his already fucked up day.

He was already exhausted, even though it’s just mid-noon and the school festival had just started. Their class planned to have a haunted room as their official booth for the festival. Haunted house are famous during these kinds of events. Toru can’t really understand what’s fun in going into some dark room with poorly made monsters and crappy cosplayers just to scare the shit out of themselves.

However, things didn’t go _exactly_ according to their plans.

They should’ve thought that putting up a haunted house in their classroom even though it’s broad daylight would be a fucking failure but _no_ —they ended up as the biggest idiots for thinking that curtains and dark blankest would solve their dilemma. When they’ve finally realized that they’re just wasting their time and energy in trying to block the sunlight off, they decided to move their _entire_ haunted house into the dark corridor between the gym and an old school building.

Toru was reluctant at first. That’s where he usually hang out with Ryota and he don’t really want his classmates to ruin and taint his favorite spot with their shits but he can’t really announce that because the Student Council would probably haunt his ass, instead, for smoking inside the campus.

So, he helped moving their set and was about to escape when the girls in his class get a hold of him and turned him into a pale-looking, blood-sucking cosplayer.

 

_“Why do I need to do this shit—,”_

_“Shh, shh, shh! This is the first time you’ll be doing anything for this class during the entire term, Yamashita-kun!”_

_“But—,”_

_“I saw you and Kohama-kun smoking here last week!” their female class president said and Toru didn’t said a word anymore. At that moment, he decided that girls are a bunch of dangerous, cunning, and scary creatures._

Anyway, aside from the school activities, Toru had been totally drained by their first EP. It was self-titled and will be containing a few songs, which he composed himself. Taka, even though being the vocalist is reluctant to make songs because that would be disrespectful to Toru who has been the one making them since the band’s formation.

_Or so Taka says._

_He’s just probably avoiding too much responsibility_ , Toru thought bitterly.

They would release the EP in a month or so but Toru is already feeling the nerves. This is their first step, their giant leap towards entering the mainstream rock industry in Japan as an independent band. This would be the turning point for their future in music.

_We also still don’t have a drummer…_

Toru sighed as he leaned back onto the wall, waiting for another batch of students to come into this part of the haunted house. He heard faint footsteps so he lifted his gaze, only to be met by the familiar almond-shaped ones.

Taka blinked owlishly up at him before grinning, “I finally found ya!” he said as he walked towards Toru.

“You’re looking for me?”

“That’s what I _just_ said, dumbass,” Taka muttered, his eyes darting around to inspect his surroundings, “Are there actually people who goes into this kind of thing?”

“Of course,” Toru said, “They love this kind of place—it’s dark so they can kiss and do some stuff. Now that I’m thinking about it,” he narrowed his eyes at the older teen who’s playing with the fake cobwebs in a corner, “where’s your _girlfriend?_ Are you done _fucking_ her?”

Taka shot him a s _candalized_ look, “Do you kiss your mother with that _dirty mouth_ , Toru-san?!”He awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking again, “And no, she’s not my girlfriend. I told you, she’s just a fan remember?”

Toru gave him a blank look, “So, that’s what they call _fan service_ huh…”

“ _What._ ”

“What are you doing here, anyways?” Toru smoothly evaded the inquisitive look from the vocalist, “This is really not the best place to hang out, you know?”

“Yeah, I think I just saw at least two couples sucking faces in that corner,” Taka agreed mournfully, “I ditched the girl. She tried kissing me and I was like, _nuh-uh, we’ve only been together for like, 5 minutes_? Besides, I’m not really interested with her so I ran away.”

“ _You ran away_ …” Toru repeated in an amused tone, “and you tried to find _me_ because…?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Taka huffed before looking away, “Those 3rd years are constantly asking me if I’m a first year or something so I thought that if I’m with this _yakuza-looking, emotionless jerk_ then I would be safe from those scary girls!”

Toru really should feel insulted when Taka pertained to him as a yakuza-looking and emotionless jerk, but he’s also somewhat satisfied— _even, glad_ —that the vocalist feel safe with him.

Or _something_.

_Mou, where are those thoughts even coming from?!_

He sighed. He’s exhausted as fuck and being inside this stuffy, dark corridor is starting to get in to his nerves. Being with this moody vocalist is not helping either.

“Let’s ditch this shit,” he announce as he moved away from the wall, “I’ll just change. Wait for me outside, ne?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They ended up hopping from one booth to another. Toru discovered that Taka has this _awesome ability_ to act like a kicked puppy and make girls swoon and fuss on him just to get treats and food— _very much like a certain younger Moriuchi he knows_. It was scary to watch, as Taka intentionally pitched his voice down while speaking to a girl in that makeshift café to order some tooth-rotting parfait.

They walked away from the at booth with a satisfied smile plastered on the vocalist’s face.

Toru just stared at him in disgust, “I thought you can’t indulge yourself in sweet things?”

“There’s always an exception to every rule, Toru-san,” he wittingly said before running, much like a hyperactive child, towards yet another food stall. Toru sighed and followed the older teen. He guessed that this is better than holing himself in the haunted house for the entire day.

“ _Itadakimasu!_ ” Taka murmured before biting into the cottony fluff of pink cotton candy. Toru winced at that. He love berries, _yeah_ , but these array of sweet things that the vocalist is eating is making him cringe, “Where’s Ryota anyway?”

Toru huffed at that, thinking that the bassist is probably somewhere in the baseball field—playing for the school team for the sports festival. Toru find it amazing, how the younger have enough energy to dance when they’re younger, play sports and play the bass without having to pant like a dog afterwards.

Toru would sure end up in _a hospital_ if he tries to play baseball even for a day.

“Dunno,” he lied, “I’m not his keeper anyway.”

“You’re saying that but Ryota’s always _clinging_ to you?”

“Why,” he drawled, a loop-sided smirk forming on his lips, “are you _jealous_ , Taka-san?”

Taka stared at him for a moment before he slowly put the cotton candy he was eating, “I think I lost my appetite...”

Toru snickered at the disgusted look on the older’s face. Taka looks like he’d eaten a rotten piece of meat or something equally revolting.

“…I also think that I want to stab you with this stick, Toru-san,” Taka mournfully sighed before taking another mouthful of the sweet cotton candy— _despite claiming that he had lost his appetite just, what, 5 seconds ago—_ , “Let’s just find Ryota. I bet he’d be _ecstatic_ to see us.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Turns out that Ryota is not, _necessarily, ecstatic_ to see them. In fact, he instantly went rigid and shaking in fear the moment he saw the familiar face of their vocalist walking towards him in the baseball field.

“Eh?! Mori-chan?!” he shrieked like a girl, “What are you doing here?!”

“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

“Aren’t you forbidden to step a foot in this campus?”

“Eh,” Taka tilted his head, “I didn’t know that you’re playing baseball. Is it fun?” He asked, completely ignoring the look of _pure panic_ on the bassist’s face. Ryota looked up at Toru, probably asking him on why did he let Taka to roam into their school.

Toru just shrugged. It’s not like he can actually prevent the vocalist from doing what he wants to do. It would just surely end up in another fight or _screaming spree_ , which is something that Toru couldn’t be capable of handling at the moment.

“He wants to find you,” Toru shrugged, making the youngest flinched with his words.

“B-but _why_ —,”

Taka suddenly launched himself and caged the bassist in an arm-lock, “So we can improve our band dynamics!”

That’s another new that he noticed on the vocalist. Taka has been somewhat alright with touching others. Toru can still remember how the vocalist would flinch and growl at someone who’d dare to hold his arm or shoulders back when he just joined the band. But now, the vocalist sometimes even initiates contacts like these—which kinda looks as if he’s trying to kill Ryota by choking him.

“B-but today’s the school festival!” Ryota tried to reason out, as if the fact will actually deter the vocalist’s determination to ruin their day.

“Exactly!” Taka finally let go of the bassist before looking around. The other players on the field are starting to whisper about them as they give the trio a bunch of odd looks, “where’s the leader? Let’s properly ask him to let you off…” he said.

Toru’s brows arched at that, “You’re gonna talk to him Taka-san?”

“Nah. _You_ will,” he said in a confident voice before glancing up at him with a grin on his face, “you’re our leader, remember?”

_Of-fucking-course._

Toru rolled his eyes and stepped forward. He want this day to end as soon as possible because, _one_ , he’s itching for a smoke and you can’t really do that stuff with a load of people and students roaming around; _two_ , so that he can play his guitar again, and _most importantly_ , so he can kill this puny, little vocalist in _peace_.

“W-what are you gonna do, Toru-nii?!” Ryota cringed in fear when he saw the look of pure terror on the guitarist’s face.

“Uh… talk to your leader or captain or the person in charge, _whatever_ you’re calling him?” Toru blinked in confusion. He can hear Taka screaming something like “Hey, leader-saaaan, where are youuuuu?!” in the background.

“Eh?! But you look like you’re gonna go for a gang war! You’re scary! Like… Like you did in Shibuya15—!”

“Shhh!!!” his head instantly whipped at the mention of that show, “Didn’t I told you to never, and I mean, EVER—,”

“What’s Shibuya15?”

“Gah!” Toru and Ryota both jumped in shock when Taka suddenly appeared between them, “What the fuck?!”

“What’s Shibuya15?” Taka repeated his question, subtly tilting his head innocently, watching as the two other band member collect their shits together, “I’ve been hearing it from Ryota twice now. And no one’s telling me what it actually is?”

Toru flinched at that. It’s not like he does not want to tell Taka-san about that program where he acted as a delinquent. He just believes that there are things that should remain _hidden_ from the humankind’s knowledge forever. Shibuya15 is one of them.

When Toru didn’t speak for a while, the vocalist turns his inquisitive gaze to the bassist—

“Ryota?”

—who instantly went shaking like a leaf under the scrutiny of those almond-shaped eyes, “Ah...uh...uhm… ano… uh… ugh… _kora_ … _are_ …?”

Toru and Taka stared at the youngest as if he’d just spoken _Greek_.

…

“Can you translate that to Japanese, please?”

Ryota vehemently shook his head in denial. He looked quite flushed, in embarrassment or mortification, or just pure hatred for his two seniors, Taka and Toru couldn’t really tell. Since the youngest looked as if he’s gonna collapse any moment, Taka finally relented and sighed in defeat.

“That’s okay, Ryota, you can stop thinking about it now,” he said before grinning mischievously, “Let’s just go after Toru-san talk some sense into your coach or captain or leader. I’ll even treat you to _kakigori_ so that you can cool your head, yeah?”

Ryota nodded solemnly at that. He just hopes that no one would recognize Mori-chan as the one in the “ _Royal Rumble of Class 06’s Grad_ ” fiasco last March.

Toru, on the other hand, is silently watching the interaction between the two. He noted that once again, Taka’s _latent maternal_ instincts had saved the day, or Ryota, in this case. Taka can easily freak the shit out of others but he’s also quick to make amends and/or offer bribes to make the other feel better.

Taka triumphantly nodded to himself, smiling like a complete saint for a moment before glancing around again, “Now, where the fuck is that captain?! Do we have to make announcement from the broadcasting room or what?!” he screamed with a slightly pissed off look on his face.

A student finally emerged from the group of baseball players upon hearing Taka-san’s screaming spree. “Hey, freshman!” the teen said as he stalked towards the vocalist with an aura of a hot-blooded athlete, “What are you screaming your head off for? Can’t you see that you’re disrupting our club activities here?!”

Taka-san let out a horrified gasp before meeting the presumably team captain halfway the dusty field, “Say that _again_ you shit! I dare you!” he demanded, a finger pointed to the taller man. Ryota is starting to hyperventilate in a corner again as he witnessed a prelude to another _Royal Rumble_ in their school grounds.

“What? That you’re disrupting our club activities?!”

“No!” Taka-san hotly said, “That I’m a _freshman_!”

Toru groaned, rolling his eyes in disappointment with the vocalist’s _ever-shallow_ reasons for getting totally pissed.

“I might look like this, but I’m actually older than all of you here!” the small vocalist gestured widely at the people in the entire baseball field—who, in turn, stared back at him with obvious disbelief, “ _What’s with those looks you_ —,”

“Ah, _mou_!” Toru can’t take it anymore so he shoved the older teen backwards and face the team captain by himself, “Stop bitching around, Taka-san! Let’s get this shit done before we get toasted under the sun!”

“—that hurts you _fucking_ Yamashita Toru—!”

But he wasn’t listening to the vocalist’s indignant cry of fury and promises of Toru’s painful and horrible death since he’s busy facing the baseball team. He was about to speak when the team captain’s eyes suddenly lit up in recognition.

“Ack! It’s Yamashita from 3C!”

“Shit! The one who did the local gang last month?!”

“I heard that he also fought with Yuya from the other school!”

“Wait, isn’t Yuya in the hospital since last week?”

“Holy crap! Let’s scram!”

“That chibi is friends with Yamashita!”

“Uh, you’re on your own now, captain!”

The captain, who’s also sweating like crazy, glanced at his team mates who are starting to dash away as if someone is running after their lives, “What?! What the hell?! Get back here you—,” he said before running away himself, “We’re still not done! Remember this, chibi!”

...

…

…

The three band members just stared at the dust left by the entire baseball club as they ran like they were in a zombie apocalypse movie. They were quiet for a moment, especially Toru who doesn’t have any idea on the things the baseball players have said earlier. Heck, he can’t even land a good punch and yet, there are rumors about him beating the shit out of them spreading in the campus?

_What the fuck?_

“You…” Taka-san finally spoke afterwards, looking up at the guitarist with a mix of amusement and wariness on his face, “You actually did all of those things or _what_ …?”

“What? _Muri deshou_!” he said, clicking his tongue in distaste, “Do I look like some trouble-maker to you?” he asked, a blank look forming on his face when Taka and Ryota stared back at him as if saying a big “YES.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go back into the school building. I’m dying out here,” he said before leading the way.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Taka subtly inched closer to Ryota while they were walking back to the main building.

“Toru-san is really feared in your school, huh?” he whispered, looking at Toru’s back in case the guitarist decided to turn around.

Ryota solemnly nodded, “It’s his _looks_ , Mori-chan. He looks like he’s constantly asking for a fight; don’t you think so, too?”

Taka made a sound of enlightenment before straightening up and nodding to himself, “Right. I thought so, even when I first saw him. Toru-san is a really, _really_ scary person.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually in a slump these days because I LOST MY DRAFT FOR TORU-SAN'S BIRTHDAY OMFG. So lame.
> 
> -Toru-san's haunted house shits are legit. You can found it here: ONE OK ROCK Radio : FM Ehime Telephone Service (6), however, instead of the corridor, I modified it to be somewhere between school buildings. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading~!


	22. P.P.S.H.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of School Festival~!
> 
>  
> 
> "I wish i could confess to you properly and hear you voice naaaa. . . "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say last time that these chapters happened during their first EP’s era.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not mine.

_So!_

The three of them finally made their way into the school grounds to enjoy the rest of the school festival. As promised, Taka got Ryota a cup of sweet-flavoured _kakigori_. He, himself, oopted for a bottle of cold mineral water because he doesn’t want to spoil his throat with too much of sweets. Toru, on the other hand, is silently following them around as he sipped his fruit juice.

Their little quest was about to end when they passed the booth of occult club and noticed the familiar figure of a certain Half-American guitarist.

“Eh?! Isn’t it Alex?” Taka said, as he suddenly halted his steps, making Ryota— _who’s busy looking around to notice that the oldest teen in their group had stopped walking_ —bumped onto him.

“A-re—gomen, Mori-chan!”

“Where?” Toru said, looking around.

“There!” Taka said and shouted, “Hey, Alex! Alex! _Yo-hoo_!”

Said man turned around, wearing a weird antenna-like attached to a plastic head band with a smile—which instantly turned into a _disbelieving_ frown upon realizing who called him, “What the fuck are you _all_ doing here?”

“Uh, we’re _studyin_ g here?” Toru asked back, gesturing to Ryota and himself, “How about _you_ , senpai?”

Taka snorted at that, “Why call him senpai when he’s not even studying here anymore?”

They all watch as a lazy and obviously lascivious smile crept up to the half-American’s face, “Long time no see, Mori-chan~!”

“We’ve just met last, last night, _aho!_ ”

The girls behind Alex suddenly squealed, like rabid fan girls, making the other three jump to their feet in surprise.

“ _Careful_ with your words, Mori-chan. You’re giving these pretty ladies a _wrong_ idea~,”

Ryota and Toru made a disgruntled sound at the back of their throat while Taka’s blood instantly, again, boil with fury. This man really, really knows how to get into his nerves like a motherfucking PRO, doesn’t he?

“You’re the one who should be careful coz I’ll _fucking shove your guitar to your fucking_ —,”

“So, what happened to your face, Alex-senpai?” Toru said, effectively cutting off the fuming vocalist from his yet another explosive rants, “you look like you’ve been mauled by a bear.”

Ryota nodded beside the rhythm guitarist, “more likely by _ten_ bears…”

Taka instantly went from _royally pissed off_ to a somewhat _totally worried friend_ at that. His eyes roamed at Alex’s face and noticed that there are— _indeed_ —a number of scars decorating the once flawless face of their lead guitarist. For a moment, he thought that Alex probably deserves getting his ass handed to him but on second thought, Alex is still a member of their band— _of their fucked-up little family_ —and no one could get away from hurting anyone of them!

Taka’s blood starts boiling again, but for a completely _different_ reason.

“Who did that to you— _I swear to fucking god_ —,”

“Jesus, Taka-san!” Toru groaned as he cut the vocalist off again, “Will you ever shut up? And chill out! You’re gonna end up popping a vein in this hot day if you continue on getting angry at, like, _every damn thing_!”

“Please don’t fight.—Please don’t fight—Please don’t fiiiight,” Ryota softly chanted somewhere in the background.

Taka huffed in annoyance. Why is he always being blamed for something?

“Well sorry for getting worried about your band member, Leader-sama!” he sardonically said, letting his awful mood get the better of him again.

“I know—just—chill, okay?”

“I don’t have to be told twice,” Taka said, crossing his arms as he looked at the people in the hallway who’s starting to notice the little squabble they’re having in public, he glared at them, making them run to the opposite direction like scaredy-cats, “I know I’m an idiot but I’m not a deaf.”

Toru’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at the demeaning way Taka had talk about himself, “What.”

“Maa, maa,” Alex said in amusement, his eyes darting between the huffing and glaring vocalist and the constipated and guilty-looking band leader, “That was really nice of you, Mori-chan. I really like that about you~” he said, making Toru’s posture slightly stiffen.

“Yeah,” the rhythm guitarist nodded in agreement, “I _like_ that about _him_ too.”

…

…

…

An awkward silence ensued between the four of them. Especially Taka who raise this “ _are-you-shitting-m_ e” kind of look to the taller teen because just seconds ago, he’s scolding the shit out of him and the next, he’s praising Taka as if nothing happened?

_And everyone’s calling me a moody bitch!_

_How about Toru-san’s sudden change of demeanor, huh?!_

Alex awkwardly cleared his throat to wash away the thick, suffocating tension surrounding them, “Well, Toru’s not really wrong with his assumptions earlier. I really got, uh, mauled—,”

The three of them let out a collective gasp at that.

“By a bear?!” is Ryota’s amazed question, “That’s, uh, cool?”

Alex just stared at the youngest member of the band, “Have you seen a bear in _Tokyo_ , Ryota?”

“I don’t know,” Ryota shrugged helplessly, “have you?”

“I have!” Taka raised his hand like a diligent student in a class recitation, “I’ve seen a bear in the zoo!”

Toru’s brows knitted in confusion as he crossed his arms over his chest. He tilted his head in a contemplative manner, “So…does that mean that you went into the zoo to fight a bear…?”

…

Alex looked like he’s about to jump into the nearest window to escape from this stupid situation with his _equally_ stupid band mates.

“No, you idiots!” he snapped, making Taka instantly react with—

_“Lies! The one who called other idiots is the actual idiot!”_

“— I didn’t go to a _zoo_ , nor fight or get mauled by a bear! Let me finish with my story first, okay?!” he asked, making the three nod obediently, “Anyway, I received an anonymous phone call yesterday. I assumed that it was one of our fan girls since you know, I’m that cool and good-looking or something—,”

Taka snorted at that, “ _Or something, pfffft_.”

“—but to my surprise, it was a punk!” he said, like someone who’s revealing a plot twist in a suspense-horror story. Taka immediately found a loop hole on the oldest’s story.

“Wait, how did you know that he’s a punk—,”

“He told me, Mori-chan,” Alex said, “he was like, ‘ _hey I’m a punk and I heard from someone that you said that you’re better than me? That you can beat me?!’_ And I was like, _‘WHAT. I didn’t say anything, I don’t even know you_.”

Then, a long silence ensued with the three members waiting patiently for the lead guitarist to continue with his story. When a full minute passed an Alex is yet to speak again, Toru finally lost it.

“What? That’s _it_?”

“Of course no. How do you think I ended up like this just from a phone call?”

“Then why are you not speaking, Alex-senpai?”

“It’s called building up the suspense, Ryota,” Alex grinned as if he just didn’t personally pissed everyone off—especially the tiny, mood **y** vocalist—

“ _Oh you fucking piece of_ —,”

“ANYWAYS,” Alex immediately started talking again, probably from the fear for his life, “I think I got too carried away because he’s really annoying and started to spout shits against me. I did some boxing years ago and I was quite confident with my skills so I ended up on actually asking him for a fight.”

“Wow,” Ryota’s mouth hanged open at the last part of the story, “That was so cool.”

“No, Ryota,” Toru shook his head solemnly, as if someone had just died in front of him, “That’s called _suicidal_.”

“You dumb _fuc_ k,” is Taka’s elaborate comment on the oldest’s stupid course of actions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex waved a dismissive hand at their reactions, “So I went to his place with a friend and we were expecting that he’ll fight me like a man, _one on one_ —but when I arrived, there’s already what, 30 OR 40 YANKEE THERE—WAITING FOR ME!”

“ _Uso_!” Ryota and Toru cried in disbelief.

Taka, on the other hand, shuddered in fear as he imagine 30 or 40 Toru’s waiting for him outside his part-time job (probably because somewhere in his mind, he still believes that Toru is a Yankee-kun), “T-that’s awful!”

“Yeah,” Alex blandly agreed, “I was shocked because no matter how skilled I am at boxing, there’s no way that I can beat 3 dozens of scary-looking dudes by myself! I was even ready to bow on my knees and ask for redemption and forgiveness but they suddenly gang up on me and then—THE END.”

…

…

…

“That’s it?”

“That’s lame.”

“How did you survive that, Alex-senpai?” Ryota curiously asked, making Taka and Toru nod in unison. They all glanced at the lead guitarist, their stares asking for explanation. Alex looked like he’s about to get sick just by remembering yesterday’s events.

“Eh, I really don’t know?” Alex shrugged, “I can’t remember anything after that but the friend I brought over, _who magically disappears when we saw those Yankees_ , told me that I bravely fought for about 10 minutes before running away.”

Taka blandly smiles at that. He might’ve hated Alex to the very core of his bones but he can still give his respect to him for being able to stand up against 30 or 40 Yankee-kun.

Even for just _10 minutes_.

“Did you call the police?”

Taka and Toru flinched at the mention of police, as they share a not-so very interesting experience inside a police station just months ago.

“I don’t know who, but they came afterwards and questioned me about what happened. But I really can’t remember anything so it’s kind of useless, I guess?” Alex scratched the back of his head before he grinned sheepishly.

“That’s dangerous, Alex-senpai,” Toru chastised like an actual leader, “What will you do if they’ve broken your arm or something? How would you play your guitar with a broken hand, huh?” he said in a completely serious tone.

“That’s what you’re worried about?!” Alex shrieked in disbelief, “You’re not even a bit concern for my well-being, right? I’m hurt, Leader-sama!” the oldest faked a hurt expression which made the other three cringe in disgust.

Toru was about to retort, probably say more harsh things (unconsciously because he’s like that) when Taka finally beat him into speaking.

“Let him hurt. That was so stupid, even for you, Alex,” Taka said with a bit more emphasis on the word stupid making the half-American nod sheepishly. Taka knows that it’s rich coming from a stupid man like himself but Alex is older than him—he should know when to act like a mature adult and when to act like a total idiot. He should be thinking, not just for himself, but for the well-being of their band itself.

_What would happen if someone had killed him? Beaten him into a pulp that he won’t be able to hold any instrument again?_

What would happen if he got arrested? It will surely drag the band’s name into the pits of hell! They haven’t even released their first EP and they’ll already have to disband or someshit?

_No way!_

“Hai, Gomen. I won’t do it again,” Alex hung his head in guilt—which is kind of awkward, especially since Alex is like a full-grown man bowing and being chastised by a small, _middle-school-looking boy_ like Taka in the middle of the hallway.

Taka and Toru nodded in unison, accepting the oldest’s offer of apology. Ryota, on the other hand, is just happy that no one is punching any one. He also silently noted that this scene is quite familiar, like Mori-chan and Toru-nii teamed up as a couple— _a father and a mother_ —and were scolding their child for misbehaving in public.

“Yay!” Alex cheered afterwards, “Now that it’s settled, let’s go the auditorium!”

“Eh!” Ryota instantly perked up at that, “But I need to go back to the baseball field—,”

Alex put an arm around the youngest shoulders, “You’re still playing with them, Ryota? Let’s ditch them for today, ne? There’s a lot of performance in the auditorium this afternoon!”

Taka also didn’t want to go anywhere with this huge half-American idiot so he obstinately crossed his arms across his chest, “And why would we want to go there? As you can see, the three of us are kinda busy here…” he even tapped his foot impatiently to prove his point.

The other two of that three is _not quite_ busy—Toru is nodding his head but his mid is obviously somewhere else, probably lost in his own world again while Ryota is vehemently denying Taka’s statement since he’s just been dragged by his two senpai earlier.

_Can you two at least act to support my statement you idiots?!_

“Busy on what? Wandering _aimlessly_ like lost children?”

“ _Please don’t fight. Please don’t fight. Please don’t fight.”_

“Better than talking about aliens with this occult club for the entire day!”

“Hey!” Alex snapped, “Don’t you ever talk trash about my hobby! If you don’t want to watch the school band performance, then don’t come! Let’s go, Ryota!”

“What—wait, why are you dragging me—,”

At the mention of the word “band”, Taka immediately perked up while Toru’s bubble of daydreams instantly burst.

“What? This school has a band?!”Toru asked to no one in a particular. Taka stared at the taller teen in disbelief.

“How the fuck would I know? You’re the _one_ who’s studying here!”

“Eh, but I’m not really active with school clubs…?” Toru shrugged, not really having any idea on the school band. They might as well check it out, since they have nothing more to do aside from wandering aimlessly like, well, _lost children_.

“Whatever,” Taka moodily huffed before stalking behind Alex and his prisoner Ryota, “They’d better be good or else, I’ll _burn_ this fucking school to the ground.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex-senpai-s experience with the anonymous punk is legit. I was laughing when I found the translations weeks and weeks ago. That was indeed so lame.   
> There will be another cameo appearance of a character next chapter. I’ve read this certain translation where he was watching someone in a school festival or someshit.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for always reading!
> 
> Feedbacks and suggestions are always, always appreciated~


	23. ROSE BLOOD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3~
> 
> "I will be taking every bit of you  
> With my heart, my soul, my stronger love"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: OOR is still not miiiiine

Turns out that there _really is_ a school band, _however_ , they’re actually more of a group of _nerve-wrecked_ teenagers who just happened to know how to hold musical instruments. The four of them watched from the back stage as the four students wander around the stage, behind the curtains looking _completely lost and terrified_.

_If…_

If Taka looked like _that_ when he’s performing in these past few months, then he really looked like _shit_.

_It was… they were… an absolute mess._

“Are you sure they’re the school band?” Taka asked in a hushed tone, his eyes never leaving the bunch of students walking around the stage like _headless_ chickens.

Alex scoffed somewhere behind him, “Do they look like the _Origami Club_ to you, Mori-chan?”

“I will fucking _stab_ you to death, Alex,” Taka glanced over his shoulder to give the taller teen a murderous glare, “And it will _fucking hurt_.”

“They look like the Drama Club to me,” Toru thoughtfully said, “Look, he can’t even hold his guitar properly. Maybe I should give him some pointers before they start performing—,”

“No you won’t, Toru-nii!” Ryota screeched, scared of getting more attention to their little group more than they already have, “Are we even allowed here in the back stage in the first place?”

“Of course,” Alex confidently said, “I’m friends with the Occult Club!”

“Is the Occult Club the one who organized this event, Alex-senpai?”

“Well no, but they’re friends with someone who’s friends with the Student Council—,”

“ _Oh for the love of god_ —,”

“Shit! The Council?! I don’t want to have detention, Alex-senpai!”

“I really need to correct that brat on how he holds the guitar—,”

Taka gritted his teeth in annoyance with these three. Why can’t these people shut up for once—and yes, that’s coming from him of all people! _Big fucking deal!_

But even before he can explode with yet another barrage of insults and _flowery_ words, someone already did—and it was not from their group.

“Ah, fuck this!” the student Toru-san had been eyeing like he personally offended the rhythm guitarist said before dropping the guitar on the cold, hard wooden floor, “I quit!”

“ _WHAT_ ,” is their band and the school band’s unified reaction.

It was Toru, however, who took it the hardest since no one— _absolutely no one_ —should be dropping any guitar to the floor like that—

“I’m gonna teach that shit a fucking lesson—,”

“ _Whoah, whoah, whoah_!” Alex was instantly on his feet to stop Toru with a headlock to prevent him from probably beating the living daylights out of the student, “Calm down dude!”

“Yeah, calm down, Toru-nii! There’s the council here!” Ryota agreed, cautiously looking around for any signs of people with bandanna on their arms, “Again, I don’t want to have detention!”

Taka felt the stress he’s feeling earlier doubles—no, _triple_ s—as he watched as the drama of the school band unfold in front of his eyes, as well as the scuffle of their own band. Toru, who should be the one to act chill and calm about this, but _NO_ , in fact, he’s been actually the one to lead the band into their _demise_.

In the end, all of the band members left the stage, leaving all their instruments either on the stand or on the floor. Toru is still huffing in annoyance in a corner while Ryota is shaking either because of fear or exhaustion, Taka couldn’t really know.

Taka was just so tired. He just wanted to go home and sleep before their practice session for tonight but the _universe_ had other plans for them—well, _Toru had_ , at the least.

“Let’s perform in their place!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka already knew that Toru-san is _somewhat_ crazy.

He’s always charging forward, facing everything head on without thinking much of the consequences.

Especially now that Toru-san had dropped the bomb, Taka realized that this man is super, _super crazy_.

He stared as everyone rushed towards the instruments lying on the floor. Since he’s the vocalist, he just stood there like a statue as everyone pulled the straps of the guitars on their shoulder. Alex is grinning like his usual manic self even though he’s shaking his head, as if he can’t still believe that Toru just suggested that they ‘d steal the “air” time of the school band. He can’t even probably believe that he’s blindly obeying the leader’s orders without even raising an argument against it.

Ryota, on the other hand, is shaking in fear as he clutched the rather larger bass guitar on his shoulders. It’s not like he really had the choice in the first place. Besides, he knows that _whatever his Toru-nii wants, Toru-nii gets_.

Toru, _the dead-eyed gachapin Toru_ , is seriously tuning the guitar on his hand while muttering something like “ _how the fuck will they perform using this out of tune guitar, seriously_ ” and a couple of “fuck” and “shit” here and there.

Taka _secretly_ wished that someone from the Student Council would discover that there’s a bunch of random students wanting to take over the stage. That way, they can prevent from making a fool of themselves in front of hundreds of—

“Okay!”

Taka squeaked indignantly when the speakers above them suddenly came into life, revealing the voice of a female student, “Gah!”

The three gave him odd looks, especially Toru who’s staring at him as if asking on _what the fuck_ is he still doing in the corner of the stage.

_I’m trying to save my face here, thank you very much._

“Let’s now hear from the school band! They’re gonna sing _Sekai ni Hitotsu Dake no Hana_ by SMAP!” the bitch announced somewhere in the gymnasium, making the student body go wild with their cheers and screams.

Meanwhile, Taka and the others had their jaws dropped onto the cold, hard floor at the announcement.

“ _WHAT?!_ ”Ryota’s panicking voice startled everyone, “What’s that?! What—,” he looked for his Toru-nii for confirmation or answers or just any reassurance that they know what they’ll be doing—but no, the rhythm guitarist just stared back at the youngest with a _complete lost look_ on his face.

Alex, seeing that everyone had this totally confused and scared look on their faces, gulped in fear, “Shit.”

“What the hell—,” Taka started, his hands sweating like crazy. He knows the song, _hell_ , he even sung it years ago on the National TV with his _cute, little brother_ in tow. Even though he can still recall some parts of the lyrics, singing it with his current voice is still, _well_ , next to impossible!

_This is all Toru-san’s fault!_

He gritted his teeth and was about to stalk and give the rhythm guitarist the beating of his life, when the curtains were drawn up, revealing a group of students ( _actually, a graduate and a complete outsider_ ) standing _awkwardly_ on the stage.

Taka instantly halted his murderous attempt when he noticed that the gymnasium had fallen silent, probably wondering who the fuck are these people.  He gulped nervously as he can feel everyone’s stare focusing on them. He glared at Toru— _we’re not done here you asshole_ —before slowly going in front of the mic stand. He took a nervous glance on the crowd—their expressions somewhat mirroring the band’s confusion. The girls and boys probably we’re not expecting this weird turn of events— _well, me neither_ —but they’re already up there. The only thing they can do is to play and get this shit over with, as soon as possible.

_“Who are they?”_

_“Wait, isn’t that Yamashita-san from 3C—,”_

_“Didn’t Alex-senpai graduated just this March?”_

_“Who’s the chibi?”_

A full minute passed wherein no one’s talking. It was dead silent in the gymnasium—so silent that Taka can even make out the _sounds of crickets_ outside. He’s starting to sweat like he had just finished a marathon. He decided that it’s probably better to just, _I don’t know_ , collapse or something, just to escape this horrible, _horrible_ situation—but no—

Suddenly, Toru strummed his guitar, producing a rough arpeggio of rifts.

_Aren’t you gonna ask me first before starting?!_

Taka can feel his teeth clattering as Alex picked up the lead, making a string of roughly plucked chords. Their sound is awful, especially since there’s no drums backing them up, but no one seemed to notice.

_How could they, when a rock band suddenly played distorted chords instead of the flowery and neat melodies of the SMAP song mentioned earlier?_

Taka panicked for a moment, his eyes helplessly darting around for any form of salvation when his scared, almond-shaped eyes met the fierce and dead-serious ones of Toru-san.

_Look forward_ , his eyes said. _Sing_.

Taka gulped audibly before facing the crowd again. He gripped the mic tightly as if he’s afraid that someone would snatch it away from him before he leaned forward—

_“When your shadow remains me like a rose_

_I would think to hold you tight_

_Even your thorn stabs to my skin_

_Won't let you leave yeah”_

Taka winced as he watched the audience’s reaction. All of them looked quite confused—half probably because of wondering _where the fuck the SMAP song went to_ , and the other half is probably straining their ears to understand what Taka is singing. His English pronunciation is _not really the greatest_ , add that to the natural roughness of his singing voice—it was like a _total vocal disaster_ for the crowd but he still continued singing.

_“It's alright to me, the pain will become_

_Luscious, agonizing, nectar to me yeah”_

The female students started bouncing along the rhythm on their spots. They probably doesn’t have any idea on the song from ONE OK ROCK’s EP but Taka felt grateful and relieved since they’re starting to react, _even if it’s just a little_. Taka subtly glanced at Toru-san who’s standing behind him. The rhythm guitarist nodded his head, urging him to look straight and continue singing.

_“itsumademo kore kara mo masshiroi bara o sakashitemo_

_oremo rotomokimi o akakusomerukara_

_So don't be afraid_

_konoyo e to hanasakasesoshitemae e mae e mae e_

_How much white the blooming rose is, I don't care”_

Taka’s strong voice filled the entire gymnasium. He felt the tension leaving his body when he heard Toru’s voice backing him up for the chorus of the song. Even though they needed to sing and utter the words faster, it was better to have someone accompanying you than singing alone. Soon after, the crowd is pumped up as they continued with their song—no one seems to care about their sudden appearance on stage, nor even when two of them are not studying in that school themselves.

Taka also started to enjoy the song, the crowd, the atmosphere as he sings around. Although he can still feel his hand shaking as he gripped the microphone, it was slowly getting better. He had fantasized about singing in a front of a large crowd like this since he left home. And even though their audience is just a bunch of students _expecting a sappy SMAP song_ , Taka is still _glad_ that he had followed Toru-san’s _crazy suggestion_ earlier.

At that moment, Taka decided that he would _never_ doubt Toru-san’s decision anymore. He’d follow whatever the bandleader wants, and if Toru-san says that they’ll be going to _hell_ , Taka would be more than _eager_ to follow him around.

_“I don’t care…_

_I don’t care wo-ohh…”_

Taka waited as the guitars played a bit more until the song reached its conclusion. The crowd screamed and cheered afterwards, making their performance a bit more rewarding. Probably because of the adrenaline surging through Taka’s veins, he suddenly opened his arms wide and shouted:

“ _Domo konnichiwa_!” he said in a loud, booming voice, startling not just the three members behind him, but also _himself_ with his sudden attempt in talking in front of so many people, “ _ONE OK ROCK desu_!”

The girls raised their fists in the air as they answered with cheers and “ _oh!_ ” even if they probably don’t have any idea about ONE OK ROCK. They just stared expectantly at Taka, as if they’re expecting him to do some _acrobatic stunts_ or _eat a live chicken_ in front of them.

“Uhm…” Taka looked around in nervousness before he glanced helplessly at Toru-san, “Our leader wants to say something!” he declared, making the rhythm’s guitarist’s eyes go wide in surprise.

“ _WHAT—_ ,”

The girls cheered again while the boys had these wary expressions on their face, probably because they just realized who is the band’s leader.

_“Isn’t that Yamashita-san?!”_

_“He’s in a band?!”_

_“More importantly, he can play the guitar?!”_

Toru reluctantly went forward, casting a look of _complete betrayal_ and promises of a good beating to Taka, before snatching the microphone from the vocalist. Taka grinned widely at the leader before conveniently giving way and hiding behind the taller teen.

“Uhm,” Toru awkwardly cleared his throat as he faced the audience, “have you enjoyed our song?!”

“Oh!” the crowd answered back, making everyone in the band to let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you very much! Please support our band and our first EP which will be released next month!” he said, shamelessly advertising their first independent mini-album, “Now, for our second song—,”

“ _Hayai_!” Taka cried when Toru suddenly thrust the mic onto his palm and went back to his position as if nothing happened. Taka was forced to face forward again as the familiar melodies of Nichijou Evolution played behind him.

_I’m not even ready yet!_

He frantically searched his mind for the right lyrics and sang nervously. They were in the middle of their third song, when someone from the student council finally stepped onto the stage.

“Hey! You’re not a student from this school, right?!” the female student said, pointing an accusatory finger at Taka, “You’re not even the School Band!”

Taka immediately stopped singing and stared back at the girl with a lost look on his face.

_It’s not my fault that you only notice it now!_

But since Taka is still nervous as fuck, he just turned to Toru-san to ask for help, “Uhm—Uh…I’m—,”

“Chill down, lady,” Alex said, instantly adapting a _smooth, soothing voice_ that he only uses when there’s pretty girls around, “you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep scowling like that!”

The girl huffed, clearly not amused by Alex’s flirting shits, “You’re gonna get arrested if you don’t step off the stage right now!”

“Feisty,” Alex grinned, a bit maniacally, “I like that— _whoaaaah!_ ” he skipped backwards when the girl suddenly lunged at him, throwing punches after punches on his already battered face.

“What the fuck!” Taka jumped in surprise and moved out of the way of the ruckus. He knows that he can somehow defend himself but seeing the _rageful and murderous_ look on the girl’s face, he decided that it would be better if he’ll just stand in a corner and watch the girl pulverizes Alex’s face.

Ryota, on the other hand, immediately took the bass guitar off his shoulder and put it on the stand before jumping of the stage, “Shit! It’s the council!”

“ _What, where are you going Ryo_ —,”

“See you later, Toru-nii!” the youngest hastily said as he ran into the confused crowd, leaving Taka and Toru staring at him until he was out of their sight. The two didn’t even mind how the girls are demanding them to sing again, nor how the boys are howling in laughter as the girl continues on hitting Alex with whatever her hands can grab onto—they just stared in front, thinking of the same thing.

_What the fuck._

_Did he just ditched us?!_

_So much for the boundless support of eternal friendship_ , Taka blandly thought.

A particularly loud groan behind them made Taka flinched, and somehow feels bad for their lead guitarist. He awkwardly cleared his throat before subtly glancing at the taller teen beside him, “Uh, don’t you think that this is the time to scram off, Toru-san?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Toru-san merely nodded, a complete look of frustration and confusion plastered on his emotionless face, “Yeah. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

And just like that, the two jumped off the stage, leaving the microphone and the borrowed guitar lying on the wooden floor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takeru blinked when a fight between the student council president and the lead guitarist suddenly broke into the stage. He was enjoying the surprise concert in that School Festival and he’s quite disappointed that the performance has been rudely interrupted.

_I even went to this school to since she said that someone from here is a member of ONE OK ROCK…_

He sighed, and was about to leave the gymnasium when a smaller body bumped behind him—making him almost fall flat on his face.

“What—,”

“Ah, _gomen, gomen_!” the familiar, high-pitched voice said behind him. Takeru looked over his shoulder to see the heavily disgruntled vocalist accompanied by the grinning guitarist— _wait, isn’t he living in the Amuse dormitory, too?! He’s also a member of ONE OK ROCK?!_ —

“We’re in a hurry! Sorry for bumping into you!”

Even before Takeru can react nor say anything, the duo had already dashed past him, towards the exit of the building. He blinked, eyes glinting with awe and admiration as he stared at the vocalist’s back.

_So, that’s ONE OK ROCK, huh…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Takeru watching OOR in a school fes is somewhat legit. However, I think, it was on Taka's school instead of Toru's? IDK.
> 
> Anways, thanks for those who read and leave comments~! I will always be grateful to you, guys *sobs*


	24. Kagerou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part~!
> 
> “My feelings for you sparkle in my thoughts  
> I can’t be honest with myself yet  
> Even though I’ve realized the truth  
> My body’s throbbing with the words I can’t get out”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh...much teenage angst and backstory in this chapter~!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Taka doubled over as he panted for breath. All the singing and jumping on the stage and running away from the student council is finally taking a toll  from his body. He really should’ve paid attention to their PE classes back in middle school instead of daydreaming about pretty girls.

 “That wa—,” Toru-san wheezed beside him, “ _ha_ —as fun!” he said, as if he’s not also gasping for air like the vocalist. The guitarist is sweating as if he just ran a _100KM marathon_ but he’s still grinning like a fool, _completely joyful_ at their petty situation.

Taka shot him a look of disbelief, “What’s fun in that?! You almost got me banned from this school _again!_ ”

Toru-san tilted his head, beads of sweat dropping down from his matted hair, “Eh? But you’re already banned from entering our school, remember?”

Taka stared at the younger with a blank look on his face.

_What-the-fuck-ever._

He groaned, feeling his muscles scream from exhaustion, “I will never listen to your suggestions— _EVER_!” he said before plopping down on the cold, concrete floor of the roof top where they ran off. He rolled over to face the sky, sighing as he stared at the swirls of yellows, red, and orange high above them. His chest is still heaving, his blood sizzling with adrenaline as he recalls their sudden live performance earlier.

It was fun— _exhilarating_ at the most.

Performing in such a place is different from the dark, strobe light-filled live houses. If singing in front of around a hundred students will be this gratifying, what more if they can sing and play in front of thousands of people someday?!

“It feels good, right?”

Taka’s eyes darted towards Toru-san as he sat on the pavement beside Taka’s lying form. His face and neck are covered with a thin sheen of sweat, his lips parted open as he slowly tried to regain his steady breathing.

_Why can he always say the right words at the right moment?_

“Toru-san…” Taka wondered out loud, “…are you a psychic?”

“ _What_.”

“Nothing,” he said before trying to get up—emphasis on _‘trying’_ because his damn body won’t cooperate so he ended up falling flat on his back again—which made the younger teen snicker at his antics.

“What the hell are you laughing at!?” he snapped as he rolled over and pushed himself up with Toru-san’s laughter annoyingly echoing in the background, “Help me get up you prick!”

“ _Hai, hai_ ,” the guitarist condescendingly nodded before hauling Taka’s shoulder and helping him to sit up straight, “That’s what you get from eating up too many ramen.”

“I’m not _fat!_ ”

“ _Of course_.”

“What’s with that _tone_ , huh?!” Taka shoved the guitarist on his arms before huffing like a completely bullied child, “Just wait, I’ll look _totally cool_ in the future that all girls will all bow to my feet!” he said before pulling his knees towards his chest and hugging them.

He heard Toru-san made a choking sound but ignored it since he’s too damn tired and irritated at the moment. He just focused his eyes on the wide, open field below them, watching as the visitors and students flock the area for what it seems like a sports event.

Though Taka hated studying to his very bones, he must admit that he like other school events—especially the Sports Day because it was the only place where he can show off without using much of his brain cells. It was the only event where he can participate seriously and enthusiastically without thinking about grades and any other things.

He wonders if all School Festival is like this— _lively, fun, and there are a lot of things to do in just a day_. He really can’t tell because he’s too busy making friends with people outside of his school—loitering around in the alleys and parks in Shibuya.

“Are all School Fes this fun?” he murmured. Toru lazily turned his head towards him, “Hmmm?”

“I mean, you three have a regular school life, while I…” his trailed off, his voice faded into the background noise below. Toru stared at him for a long moment as if he’s assessing whether to buy a certain product or not before tilting his head in confusion.

_I just hope that he won’t ask any question about my—_

“You haven’t been in School Festival, Taka-san?”

_—There it is! Argh!_

“Uhm, ahahahaha,” he laughed nervously before looking, “Not really?”

Taka made an indignant yelp when Toru suddenly grabbed his shoulders to force him to look at the guitarist’s face, “Then what have you been doing in your school life before?!”

“Eh?!” he looked away from the seriousness of Toru-san’s eyes, “I already told you that I fooled around in those times, remember?”

Toru nodded, the hands clutching his shirt slowly loosen up as he probably reminisce the events of that day, when Taka bared his past to the guitarist. And now that he’s thinking about it, Taka felt a faint blush forming high on his cheeks as he remembered how pathetic he must’ve looked like back then— _weak, emotionally-drained_ as he leaned on the younger’s shoulder as if it’s the most normal thing to do in the world.

_B-but that’s what friends are for, r-right?!_

Taka mentally nodded at his own thoughts, even though something behind his mind is screaming _“NO-ASSHOLE-THAT’S-JUST-BEYOND-THE-LINE.”_

“Yeah, but you really didn’t give any details,” Toru-san shrugged, “So, how come that you don’t know how fun School Festivals are?”

Taka glared at the younger, “What’s it to you?” he rudely snapped, his happy and calm mood draining down as he realized that Tour-san is starting to pry with his past again. Taka felt that Toru-san is starting to slowly _unravel_ him, slowly _dissecting_ his entire life, his emotions and thoughts—and _he didn’t like it_ , not for a bit. Whatever happened had already _happened_. The past should always stay in the past, and all they need to do is move forward, _towards the future, whatever it may be, right_?

The vocalist moodily huffed and stared ahead, with every intent of ignoring the guitarist for the rest of the afternoon. Or until his legs gained enough strength for him to walk home. He’s aware that he have this awful attitude of suddenly shutting everyone off, acting like a _king_ to be obeyed whenever he’s pissed off, so he kinda expected that Toru-san would do the usual things people around him did, _you know_ , snapping back at him, telling how insufferable he is, and ultimately leaving him alone.

But no, the bandleader probably had mastered the “ _HOW-TO-DEAL-WITH-A-MOODY/BITCHY-TAKA-101_ ” since he just hummed thoughtfully, leaning back on his arms to stare at the slowly darkening sky.

“I just want to know more about you,” he casually said, making Taka’s skin tingle with goose bumps, “Is that _bad_?”

Taka didn’t really know how to respond at that. _Wait, how can you even respond to something like that?!_

“ _Ano saa_ , Toru-san…” Taka drawled, swallowing down the awkwardness that is starting to form between them, “If I didn’t just know that you’re _a huge pervert and straight as a motherfucking ruler_ man, I’d say that you’re trying to…uh… _flirt_ with me,” he grimly announced.

Toru-san just stared at him.

And stared at him _more_.

It’s like Toru-san is trying to see his very soul with those large, unblinking eyes. It made Taka nervous as hell, his hands unconsciously fiddling with the loose threads of his pants as he endured the scathing yet bored look on the younger’s face.

What’s worse is that he made no attempt to _deny nor confirm_ Taka’s statement.

_How long is he gonna stare at me like that?!_

Taka inwardly winced, mentally berating himself for bringing that topic up as he desperately searched his mind for any topic that would lift this awful atmosphere between them.

_There’s only one he can think of!_

“I was the _ultimate delinquent_ back in school,” he suddenly blurted out, hugging his knees closer to his chest as some sort of protection, “You know, the usual. I dyed my hair with various colors, always ditched classes to just roam around, and went with bad company of friends. I… I was never really into studying,” he admitted, looking down on the students below, “I’m _stupid_ , I know that much. Can’t even _properly_ do math. I can’t even read _katakana_ to some extent, how embarrassing is that?” a hollow laugh erupted from his lips.

How embarrassing that was… _and yet you’re revealing it to another person_. His past is so dark, full of shits and troubles, and yet, he’s revealing it to another person— _to Toru-san, of all people_.

Toru-san who instantly dropped the blank look on his face earlier and replaced it with a face full of curiosity, of confusion, of _interest_.

“If it will make you feel better,” the guitarist said, pulling his own legs towards his chest and rest his head over the folded arms, staring at the vocalist with his twinkling eyes, “I also sucked in _Kanji_.”

Taka felt quite insulted, “But that’s different! I’m a Japanese so I should be very fluent in _Katakana_! Even an elementary student is even _better than me_!” he cried in indignation.

Toru-san let out a soft chuckle, not a condescending nor juding one but more of amusement on his demise, “That’s right, huh? So what did you do?”

“I went into cram school,” Taka answered honestly, the previous hesitance on opening up slowly dissipates from his system, “This happened just after I left NEWS. Everything is falling apart, you see? I need to get my grades up in order to stay with the group and my parents are constantly nagging at me to stop fooling around…”

The vocalist’s eyes hooded as he recalled the things he’d done in the previous years of his life. He wasn’t exactly regretting them, but he’s not proud of them either. But, as he had always told himself, he needs to move forward.

Learn from his mistakes, think of the things that went wrong, and stand up to face the world.

_It has always been like that._

_Right?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The small smile on Toru’s lips faltered as he noticed that Taka is slowly immersing himself in his own world of depreciation again. It’s obvious, now that he spent more times with the vocalist, that Taka always does that whenever they talked about his past. It’s like Taka is always wrapping himself with those thick, impenetrable walls to block everything and everyone one.

_And Toru didn’t want that._

He wants Taka to be able to reminisce everything from his past without batting those pretty eyelashes. He wants Taka to remember everything with a laugh, or even with just a small, nostalgic smile on his full lips.

_Not like this._

_Never_ like this.

“I was with the wrong people,” Taka murmured, so soft that Toru had to shift closer in order to hear him, “Keio— _the school I was in back then_ —was a proper one, _you know_ , all the smart and brainy people. It’s not really fun being in a place surrounded by gifted people who can solve those shitty math problems when you can’t even do multiplication and division, _ahahahahaha_ …” his laugh was empty, humorless.

“Keio?” Toru raised an inquisitive brow at that, “Isn’t that a _super-prestigious_ school?! You went there?!”

“Prestigious- _my ass_ ,” he snorted, “I only got in there because of my parents’ influence. I’m probably _1000 years early_ from passing the entrance exams there.”

“But you still managed to stay in there for what—3 years?” he looked at the vocalist for confirmation.

“I’m in Keio since elementary,” Taka begrudgingly admitted, “And it’s not like I really wanted to be in there. The people in Keio are so uptight, proper—and I’m their complete opposite so I have friends outside of school. People older than me, usually.”

“So you hang out? What’s wrong with that?” Toru asked in genuine confusion, “Didn’t you  just want to have fun?”

He saw Taka bit the inside of his cheeks at that, “Eh, what we’re doing isn’t really good… I imitated them since I want to rebel from my parents you know? Not following school dress codes, dying my hair, piercing my ears, not following curfews,” Taka laughed as if remembering good memories, “Sometimes we drink then we would roam around in Shibuya—,”

“While _drunk_?!”

“Hai! I can’t remember most of the events during our uhm, _drunken escapades_ , but I thought that it was fun! We usually hang out in Karaoke’s with girls and students from another school! I always sing rock songs back then! Ah…that was fun to remember…” he said, eyes casted on the students arranging the bon fire in the middle of the field.

Toru hummed in response, though he can’t agree that ruining your school life would be really called as “fun” but what happened had already transpired. If not for those people who influenced Taka, he _won’t probably the person he is right now_.

Toru felt quite bad at himself for thinking about that. He doesn’t _really care_ whatever the vocalist had done in his life— _whether he’s a drunken mess or the ultimate delinquent of the century_ —all that matters to Toru is that, those events led the tiny vocalist to the band— _to him_ —and nothing _else_.

“You see, my father,” Taka continued, his voice taking a more somber tone, just like what he usually does whenever he’s talking about his family, “is so strict. My mother said that it’s because he wanted to build an ideal family since he’s been through rough times when he was at my age, but I think, he quite _overdid_ it. He would beat me up whenever I went home with bruises and scratches. Imagine that! I’m already beaten up to a pulp and he still beat me up because I was such a bad child?!” Taka’s snarky laughter is full of sarcasm, of so much pain and so much hatred that Toru had this sudden urge to stop the older from ranting.

He can imagine it— _yes_ —a tiny, fragile looking Takahiro, looking down with an angry pout on his lip. Cuts and bruises decorating his _child-like face_ as he accepted yet another onslaught of not only physical pain, but also of harsh words from his parents.

Toru’s fist balled as frustration hits him hard. He wanted to tell Taka that it’s not right, that what he’d experienced is not right but what can he say to back it up? He grew up in a simple family, with loving parents and a doting elder brother. He went to a simple school and while he did some jobs in the entertainment world, it’s nothing compared to the world Taka had been born into.

Besides, he didn’t know the man— _Taka’s father_ —personally to actually had the right to comment on his parenting skills. It’s probably an adult thing, to hit and scold your offspring for doing wrong things. So he can’t hate Taka’s father, as much as he wants to.

_But it doesn’t made this urge to punch the man’s face go away._

_I wonder why?_

“There was this time that I didn’t went home for weeks,” Taka said afterwards, the soft summer breeze ruffling his short-trimmed hair, “I lived off my friends, relying on their kindness for days and nights. I just don’t want to go home—I don’t want to _see their faces_ , don’t want to _hear their voices_ , I don’t want to have _anything to do with them_.”

“…but you still went home…?”

Taka’s eyes rolled in disgust at that, probably at himself for not being able to stand up for his choices, “ _Hai!_ Because as much as I hated them, they’re still my family! Argh! If not for _Tomo_ and _Hiro_ , I would probably just ditch them as early as that! It was just pure… _disaster_! I…sometimes… _most of the times_ … I wish that I was born in a different family, without a set of famous people as parents, with a simple household… then probably…” Taka bitterly smiled, his eyes blinking rapidly to keep the unshed tears at bay.

Toru knew where this situation is heading to.

He’s _painfully_ aware that Taka is thinking that if he wasn’t born as a Moriuchi, then he’ll probably living a _better_ life. That he won’t be living with those burdens, with those expectations, with those rules to follow on his shoulders. That he won’t have to deal with people thinking and regarding him only as _“Mori’s son”_ not by his name— _never by Moriuchi Takahiro_.

“I’ve always thought that it’s their way of _torturing_ me. You see, I’ve never passed any entrance exam in my life because I’m too stupid,” he sadly said with this forced smile on his lips, making Toru’s chest clenched painfully, “So they made arrangements so that I can enter not just any school, but _Keio_! Keio of all fucking places! It’s like they really want me to die because of humiliation and slap me with the harsh fact that I’m dumb every single day for 9 years! Can you believe it?!”

“That’s probably not their intention—,” Toru gulped nervously when the vocalist gave him a full-blown murderous glare, “—but I agree that t must have been hard for you…?”

Taka seemed quite satisfied at that because he huffed, nodding his head in agreement, “ _Deshou?_! When I was in elementary, I can still follow with the lessons. I’m even in the soccer club—,”

“ _Uso!_ ”

“ _Hontou!_ I’ve played soccer until the first term of middle school!” Taka laughed joyfully at that, “For six years, I’ve played soccer but when I entered the middle school, it suddenly got intense! I was like, _‘we should just chase this ball and kick it to the goal, right?’_ during elementary, then suddenly, it became like a daily session in middle school! Everyone was talking about strategies and moves and to crush and attack the other team and I was like _‘what the fuck, I didn’t sign up for this shit—I thought I’m not gonna use my head here, assholes!_ —,”

“You really said that?”

“Of course not!” Taka snorted, “But I was always exhausted and moody as fuck back then!”

“Probably because you’re so sma—,”

“What was that?” Taka smiled a bit wider, too wide, as if he’s silently threatening Toru with a silent promise of a bitter, horrifying death, “What were you saying Toru-san?” he asked in an ironically, _sickly-sweet_ voice.

Toru swallowed down. As much as he loves hearing that voice, it’s still scary to see Taka act like this.

“Nothing. I said nothing.”

“Good,” Taka nodded before straightening his legs forward, “Back to the story, I was like ‘ _fuck this shit—this won’t raise my grades anyway_ ’ then quit the team. I focused on working for building my career, you know, getting a new name for myself—even though everyone is still only looking and listening to me because I’m ‘ _Mori’s son_ ’—I tried. I tried _really_ hard, you know?”

“ _Hai_ ,” Toru softly murmured but he doubt if the vocalist had heard him.

“But even before I can stand on my own, even before I can establish my name base on my own voice, it went all _crumbling_ down—my _career_ , my _first true love_ —,”

“ _WHAT_ —,”

“—my parents are fighting more often, the pressure of comforting my brothers was pressing on my shoulders, and worst, my grades are failing. Everyone was like, ‘ _go, fix yourself_ ’ and ‘ _stop fooling around_ ’ but I can’t— _I can’t!_ ” he said, anger evident in his voice, “Because how can I fix myself if I was _born like this_ —dumb and stupid and rebelling piece of shit?!”

“ _Wait_ —,”

“Then suddenly, _everyone_ was giving up on me! Telling me that I was someone who couldn’t be helped _anymore_ , that I was a _lost cause_ —and everything was a mess. There’s this time when my father told me to _‘Go!’_ —he’s forcing me to take classes, to salvage whatever was left of my grades but I don’t want to so they’ve said “ _Get out!_ ” so I did! I left—,”

“—Taka—,”

“I packed up my things, my bank book, and CD’s then went to my grandma’s house for a while,” Taka let out a deep breath after ranting like the furious little child he is. Toru was actually afraid that their vocalist will just combust because of anger, because of the seething rage boiling from his lithe form. He can feel it, with the harsh  words after words the older had spouted.

“It was nice at first… trying to stand for yourself for once, but as days passed, I realized that it can’t go o forever, that I couldn’t go on blaming my parents forever for the mess I’ve done. I left my grandma’s home and started doing part time jobs while trying to study in high school… but I guess, it didn’t end quite well?” Taka’s glassy eyes turned to Toru for confirmation, for saying _something_ , for saying _anything_.

Toru recalled every words that went out from that lips. He had always thought about this—that Taka is searching for _something_ , some place where he can be the _center of attention_. It always seem that Taka is looking for _acknowledgement,_ begging to be _noticed and fawned upon_ even when he blatantly denied it.

Now, it all makes _sense_. Why Taka is always looking for some company. Why Taka is always asking him to go to his place earlier so that they can eat dinner _together_. Why Taka always want to have their meetings and jamming in his house. Why Taka would always, _always_ look after all of the band members even though he’s always complaining about their attitudes.

It was his own little way of asking to be _doted_ , to be _cared for_ , to be **_loved_**.

Toru wonders why his chest tighten up at that. He’s been wondering for these past few days on what he’s feeling towards the vocalist. It wasn’t love— _that, he’s sure of_ —and it wasn’t attraction either. It’s more like, he having this ridiculous assumption that Taka needs _someone_ who would always guide him, _someone_ who would always soothe him whenever he’s agitated, _someone_ who would comfort him when he’s into-self depreciation again, _someone_ who would care for him.

And what’s _worse_ is that, Toru think that _he should be that someone_.

Or else, everything will be an utter chaos.

He already knew that Taka is a different case— _that he needs a different treatment_ —like a sensitive, pretty little butterfly that will fly away with just a wrong move. Taka is, undeniably an important part of their band, and without him— _without him functioning properly_ —they will all crumble down into tiny pieces.

Toru, _then_ , wondered if all these strange, unfamiliar feelings that have been plaguing him is the result of his way of thinking as the bandleader. He wonders if this is not really affection he’s feeling, but just a mere _obligation_ to take care of his band members— _because, that’s what leaders do, right?_

Then why is he not feeling this way for Ryota? _And for fuck’s sake_ —for Alex-senpai?

Anyway, Taka is still staring at him with wide, child-like eyes, clearly waiting for his response so decided that it was damn time to finally say _something_.

“Probably,” he shrugged making the older winced at his brutal honesty, “But those made you the way you are right now, remember? Besides, all the things you’ve done back then just led you to _me_ , right?” Toru inwardly bit his tongue at his last words.

Taka probably noticed that since his eyes bulged out as if they’re gonna pop out of his sockets, “To the _band_. You mean, those events led me to the band, right?”

“Uhm… uh…” Toru averted his gaze, feeling cornered out and totally humiliated, “Isn’t it the _same_ thing?”

…

A deafening silence ensued between them. The only thing that can be heard is the dull thumps of drums below them as the students gather around the bonfire for the evening dance—signaling the end of yet another School Festival. They have been so engrossed with their conversation that they failed to notice that the sun has already set, leaving the sky a faint red and purple hues as the stars start to shine high on the horizon.

Toru wants the ground to open and just _gobble him up whole_ because of mortification. Taka would probably think of him as weird person— _aside from being an emotionless gachapin and a Yankee-kun_ —because of what he had _cleverly_ enunciated earlier.

But then—Taka did the _unthinkable_. He burst out into fits of laughter, holding out his stomach to support his lithe form, “ _AHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!_ ”

Toru stared at him—stared at the joyful look on the vocalist’s face, the absolute _glee_ replacing the gloomy mask he’d worn just moments ago—and Toru was, once again, _mesmerized_ as he watched Taka’s laughing spree beside him.

He noticed how Taka’s eyes seem to lit up, corners wrinkling in complete delight, as his dark orbs reflect the soft, crimson fire from below. His cheeks are flushed, a vivid shade of scarlet spreading into the once pale, creamy skin making him look _younger_ than he already is. And his mouth, his lips pulled into a large smile, easily showing the world how _pleased_ , how _happy_ , how _amused_ he is at Toru’s _demise_.

At that moment, while Taka’s gleeful chuckles are echoing in the background, Toru decided that he will protect this _laughter_ , this _smile_ , this very _person_ from now on.

Toru decided, that whatever the reason for that feeling, he will be that _someone_ for Taka.

_No one else._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryota carefully closed the door leading to the rooftop upon hearing Mori-chan’s laughter. He sighed, eyes blinking as the adjust to the sudden darkness of the stairway.

“So, how’s in there?” Alex-senpai softly asked as he nursed his swollen cheek, “Is Mori-chan still screaming or _what_?”

“ _Ehrm_ ,” Ryota’s eyes glanced away, his cheeks flushing as he remember how Toru-nii merely stared at their vocalist— _in an awestruck, lovesick kind of way_ — when he started laughing his head off. The two were too far for Ryota to actually hear what they’re talking about but when Mori-chan suddenly yelled and yelled earlier, he thought that the two were arguing.

_But, Mori-chan is laughing now so…_

_I guess they’ve already made up?_

“I think, they’re fine now,” Ryota answered honestly. Alex-senpai grinned up at him. It’s obviously the answer that he’s been waiting for.

“Then let’s call them, I’m starving!” he said, his hand went up to hold the know but Ryota grabbed his arm to stop him.

“W-wait!” he said, preventing the older one from opening the door and ruining _whatever_ Toru-nii and Mori-chan are doing out there, “I—I think we should just leave them be, you know? I… I don’t want to intrude or something… so yeah?” he hopefully looked at the lead guitarist.

Alex-senpai stared at him for a moment before smiling in understanding.

“You’ve really _grown up_ , huh?” he cryptically said, ruffling the bassist’s hair in appreciation, “Because of that, and because I’m a good senpai, I’ll treat you to k _akigori_ ~!” Alex-senpai said before making his way down the stairs.

“Eh?! _Kakigori_ again?!” Ryota complained but followed the older nonetheless, hoping— _praying_ —that there won’t come a time that Mori-chan and Toru-nii would fight, _for real_ , in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s it~!  
> Another arc had ended hohohoho~!
> 
> -Taka’s school life is probably well-known amongst their fans. Most of the facts I’ve included in this chapter was, again, from ryeon’s translations of Rockin'On Japan: Taka’s June Interview
> 
> Toru-san is so sure that he’s not in love but decided that he will be that someone for our little vocalist~
> 
> Anyways, thanks for always reading~! Comments, feedbacks and constructive criticisms are always appreciated~!


	25. Kemuri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Losing to the adult world.  
> This is a very shoooort chapter.
> 
> "If everything stayed the same except me being around, maybe the world would break  
> The future is unreliable and huge beyond belief, but I still have a dream"
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gone for a week and the Ryota's suddenly a dad?! OMFG. Congratulations~!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the shitty plot, loads of typo and grammatical errors~

 

“The manager said that the EP sold _11, 000 copies_ ,” Taka looked up from the paper he’s reading, meeting the blank stares of the rhythm vocalist who’s still wearing his school uniform, “What kind of _sick_ joke is this?”

Toru, who has been casually lounging in Taka’s couch blinked, “I think that’s a lie. Or some shit to _console_ us because I’m sure that we won’t be able to sell that much.”

Taka nodded in approval, “ _Deshou_? They’re probably lying— _wait_ ,” he halted, realizing that Toru-san just _magically_ appeared in his living area, “What are you doing _here_ , Toru-san?!”

Toru blinked up at him, “Uh... _sitting_ —,”

“ _HOW DO YOU EVEN MADE IT INSIDE, YOU STALKING, TREPASSING PIECE OF SHI—_ ,”

“Silly, Taka,” a lazy smile slowly formed on the guitarist’s lips, “through the doorway, of course— _ACK! Itai_!” he screamed in pain upon having an _intimate kissing scene_ with Taka’s indoor slippers, “Stop hitting me!”

“Then stop _barging_ into my unit!” Taka fumed yet retreated the slipper nonetheless, “I thought I’ve already confiscated all your duplicate keys? Don’t tell me that you have _more_?!”

Toru didn’t even look _apologetic_ , no, _not at all_. In fact, he even managed to look smug, as if he’s really proud of _illegally_ copying Taka’s keys to his unit, “I have, like, a _dozen_ more, Taka. Chill. We’re friends, anyway, right?”

Oh, _right_.

Taka can’t really say no that ‘ _we’re friends anyway’_ card that Toru-san is so fond of using against him these days so he just sighed in defeat before plopping on the seat across the guitarist. He crossed his legs and leaned forward, cradling his face with a hand perched on his knees.

“So, what now? It’s really pouring out there, Toru-san,” he said, and as if to emphasize his point, a loud cackle of thunder boomed outside followed by the madly pouring rain, “What are you doing here anyways? You should be still in school, right?”

“Eh,” Toru-san glanced away, totally guilty of skipping his classes, “We have self-study for the two last periods so I _ditched_ them.”

Taka stared at him, waiting for a more comprehensive, _and reasonable_ , explanation, but the younger teen merely stared back at him with those large, unblinking eyes.

“That’s _it?_ ”

“Hai.”

“You skipped your classes and, what, decided to come _here_?”

“Hai. It’s nearer to the school, remember?”

“But your dorm is in the _opposite direction,_ you dipshit! _Mou_!” Taka groaned. He initially thought that he could rest this afternoon. It’s raining since morning, making the temperature went a bit lower than the scorching heat of the recent summer—making Taka wants to sleep more. His shift will not be starting until 8 in the evening— _and it’s only 2 in the afternoon_ —so he thought that he could nap or even practice on learning how to play guitar, but those plans instantly went into the _trash bin_ because of this intruding young man.

“I can’t see the reason why you’re so fussy, Taka,” Toru-san said, earning a sharp glare from the vocalist, “I went here because it’s raining and my hair is starting to get wild—,”

“Who cares about your damn hair—,”

“—and I even brought CD’s!” two CD case magically appeared on Toru-san’s hands that instantly made Taka shut his mouth up, “Let’s rewatch these two!”

Taka leaned forward to grab the CD cases—it’s the Meteora album of Linkin Park and the One by One album of Foo Fighters. He’d admit that he had missed hearing the songs from these albums. _Toru-san really have a good sense of timing, huh?_

He nodded and placed the cases on the center table, “Fine. Let me just prepare some snacks,” he said, padding into the kitchen.

Toru, on the other hand, grinned happily on his seat as if he just won the lottery.

“Yahoo~!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The rain had stopped long ago, leaving puddles in the road, cleansing the Tokyo air free of smoke and dust. The faint sunlight filters through Taka’s apartment unit, across the seating forms of the two teenagers.

Taka and Toru stared at the vocalist’s laptop screen, eyes wide with awe and blood sizzling with adrenaline as the last music video ended. Taka can never really describe the feeling every time he listened to Western music—it was exciting, and awesome, and inspiring, and makes them feel powerful.

It’s like the songs are _swallowing them whole_.

“I...” Taka licked his lips, as he gulped the excitement which is quickly spreading into his system, “I think I want to go to _America_ and perform there...” he said.

Beside him, Toru-san meekly nodded as if he’s still in a trance, “Alright. Let’s go, Taka.”

Taka’s head whipped towards the guitarist, his eyes wide in disbelief at the leader’s words, “Wha— _where?_ ”

“To America,” Toru-san confidently nodded his voice deep and strong, “Let’s go to America, Taka.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka knew that he had already promised himself that he will _always_ follow Toru-san’s decisions, no matter how crazy it is, but this time...isn’t it a bit, uhm, _crazier_?

“Ticket’s for America, please!” Toru said in a totally menacing voice.

Taka watched as the younger teen leaned over the counter, making the lady behind the desk to lean backwards in an uncomfortable manner. She’s obviously shocked to see two teenagers who are demanding to buy plane tickets to New York City.

This is the _fifth_ Travel Agency that they have gone into—the earlier four we’re a total disaster since they won’t give them tickets, even if Taka and Toru can pay for all of them.

“Uh...?” The pretty lady raised a perfectly shaped brow at Toru-san, “I beg your pardon?”

Toru-san made a disgruntled sound, frustrated that he have to repeat his words for _god-knows-how-many-times_ already in that afternoon. Taka was actually starting to get scared that the guitarist will just explode and go _kung-fu_ on everyone’s ass in that Travel Agency.

“ _Ano_ , Toru-san—,”

“I want to go!” Toru said like a _petulant_ child, easily ignoring the smaller teen behind him, “ _Please_ look for the cheapest tickets to America right now!” he grouchily demanded.

The lady gave them an _“are-you-fucking-kidding-me”_ kind of look. She’s probably wondering if the two teens before her are taking drugs or smoking pots or _something_.

“What? What are you saying?”

Taka felt that they really should _stop_ , before the lady calls for the security or worse _, the local police unit_ , to kick their asses out of this building, but Toru-san thinks otherwise.

As usual, he snorted.

“We want to perform in New York,” Toru suddenly explained, as if the lady would actually give them tickets just because he introduced their band to her, “You see, we’re in a band. And it’s our _life-long_ dream to go to America and perform there!”

Taka slapped a hand over his face at his leader’s total _stupidity_.

_Life-long dream?_

_Really?_

Didn’t they just thought about going to America, for like, _an hour ago_?

Suddenly, he doesn’t want to be _associated_ with this idiot anymore. He had suffered so much humiliation for today to last a _lifetime_.

_I wonder if Toru-san will notice me if I sneak away—_

“Look!” his arm was suddenly yanked towards the guitarist making Taka yelp in indignation, “He’s our vocalist!”

_Holy shit, Toru-san, shut the fuck up—_

“Uh...huh...?” the lady stared at them as if they’ve just asked for _both of her kidneys_ , “So, uhm, you’re saying that you want to go to America?”

“Hai!” Toru and Taka answered in unison, though the smaller one is silently planning the ultimate _demise_ of the guitarist for bringing him into this embarrassing shit, “Right _now!_ ”

The lady let out a sigh of defeat before pulling out a shit-ton of papers and a pen, “So, where do you plan to stay when you’re in America?”

...

...

An awkward silence ensued. Taka and Toru stared at the tall, pretty woman with a complete dumbfounded look on their faces. The enthusiasm on Toru-san’s eyes was replaced with confusion and irritation at that simple question.

“Do we _need_ one?”

Taka slapped a hand on his face, again. He’ll probably look terrible afterwards, with all the handprints contrasting on his pale skin but he’s past the point to actually care. What matters now is that he need to _get the fuck out_ , out and away from this dumb, _dumb_ teen.

“Of course,” the lady coolly said, ignoring the perplexed look on their faces, “We can’t let you go there just to sleep on the streets, right? Now, how old are you? Can I have your Identification Cards, please?”

Both silently gave their ID’s away, Taka inwardly cringing when he noticed how the lady glared on Toru-san’s ID. She must have seen that Toru-san is still underage!

“I’m sorry to _crush_ your dreams, young ones, but you can’t go,” the lady shook his head in a remorseful manner as he handed their ID’s back.

“What?!” Toru immediately burst into a hissy fit, “Why can’t we—,”

“Look, Yamashita-san,” she sternly said, easily shutting the younger up, “You don’t have any pre-booked lodgings, you don’t have any actual place to perform in America and most importantly, you’re underage. You can’t go out of the country without your parents’ consent, so I’m really sorry,” she said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Taka watched as Toru-san’s shoulders sagged in defeat, the hand gripping his wrist suddenly went _tighter_. He winced, and had this urge to smack the guitarist’s hand away because it’s starting to fucking hurt but just seeing the sad, disappointed face of the younger teen, Taka felt like he will be a complete _monster_ if he did.

So even if he _can’t feel_ his hand anymore, he just let Toru-san hold it.

“We can’t go…?” Toru-san’s melancholic and low voice echoed in the front desk. It was so lonely, so disappointed that just by hearing it— _and seeing his equally dejected face_ —makes Taka want to curl up in a corner and just cry.

It’s _pathetic_ , really, but who can blame him?

_I mean, just look at Toru-san’s face! He looks like someone has killed his puppy right in front of his eyes!_

Okay, maybe the analogy is a bit intense. Especially since Toru-san was the one sporting the _kicked-puppy_ look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Yamashita-san,” the lady genuinely sounded apologetic, probably from mercilessly crushing their _life-long dream_ , “That’s the rules.  You can come back when you’re properly ready and on the right age, yes?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not uploading last week T^T I’ve been hospitalized for a week and that obviously made me unable to post updates. I apologize for the delay.
> 
> Anyways, I bought ticket for the OOR Ambitions Tour in Manila in 2018! Yay~!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is somehow legit. I remembered the first time I watched an interview about their Ambitions album (I think it was on MTV? Please correct me if I’m wrong) and Taka said that there was an instance when they foolishly wanted to go to America to perform when they we’re younger. I’ve found a more detailed interview in ryeon’s translations.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I’m (finally) starting to write the draft of the band and Tomoya’s first meeting and I’m having difficulty on portraying Tomo’s character since it’s really hard to figure out? If you have any interviews/translations/videos or whatever that brings out Tomo as a person (more than being a band man), kindly give me the links T^T It would be very, very helpful.
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for waiting and reading~!


	26. Keep IT Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting and making up~
> 
>  
> 
> “Dream and hope, discover them  
> We should press forward like we wanted to before,  
> The worried about worthless reputations and the appearances adults keep up”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the concern~! You guys are really the best T^T
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for the silly plot and loop-holes and typos.

The autumn air was crisp, cold and bitter. The breeze is starting to get colder as the winter approaches, leaving the people wear thicker clothes and scarves.

Toru sighed mournfully, looking up at the golden and mauve canopy of trees above them. The rain had long stopped, making the air fresher, and the earth soft under their shoes. They’re currently sitting on a bench in a public park, exactly where they sat on Taka’s birthday months and months ago.

_Now that I’m thinking about it, isn’t this the same park I’ve gone with Ryota last year?_

_A year has already passed, huh…_

It’s almost a year when Toru felt like he had lost everything—their dance group had disbanded, he lost his part-time job and his completely _bored out of his fucking mind_ that he suddenly went and formed a band with Ryota.

Now, he’s back in the same park, feeling totally at loss for having his enthusiasm crushed and torn into thousands of pieces.

“Argh!” he suddenly stood up and screamed out, making Taka jumped in surprise beside him, “Damn them!”

A few people turned towards them, probably wondering why on earth is he screaming his lungs out.

“Sit down, you idiot!” Taka immediately grabbed his arm to force him to sit his ass back to the bench, “I don’t want to get arrested for causing public disturbance again!”

“But—,” he whined before obeying, crossing his arms and huffing moodily, “Damn. Damn all of them! This is just so _unfair!_ ”

“Who’s _them_?”

“Them! The system! The adults! _Everyone!_ ”

The vocalist nervously smiled at him, “I think you just want to blame anyone for our…uh… _failure_?”

Toru shot the vocalist with an offended look. _Doesn’t he feel the same?_ That they’re being hindered by the system the adult had made?

What if he’s _underage_?

What’s the matter if he’s so young? _Isn’t it the talent and skills which should count in the music scene?_

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Taka said in a soothing manner, “Stop looking like you’re gonna murder everyone in cold blood—,” the vocalist winced when Toru glared _murderously_ at him, “—like _that_. _Jesus!_ If looks could kill, I’ll probably just drop dead right here, right now!”

“Fuck off if you’re just gonna _mock_ my _feelings_!”

Taka let out a scandalized gasp at that before nervously looking around to see if somebody heard that.

“Fucking hell, are you really throwing a _tantrum_ , Toru-san?” Taka asked in disbelief, before gesturing towards the wide, open park, “Like, really, here? _Outside?_ Where everyone can fucking hear and see you?!”

“Where do you want me to throw a tantrum to? Inside your _bathroom_?”

“What?! No!” Taka gasped in horror and frustration.

Toru know that he’s starting to get unreasonably childish and immature about what happened earlier. He know that he should stop but he can’t— _he really can’t_ , especially when he _wants to do something_ , but he’s _not able to do anything_ to achieve it!

“Aren’t you the one who’s _always_ throwing a tantrum _wherever and whenever_ you want to? Wait, why are you  even not upset? Is that because you were never even _serious_ with our dreams  for the band? Is that it?!” Toru instantly clamped his mouth shut when he saw the flicker of hurt and of betrayal on the vocalist’s face.

It was gone even before Toru can apologize for all the shits that came out of his mouth.

“ _Motherfucking piece of shit_ ,” Taka growled lowly, much like a cute poodle preparing for an attack before regarding Toru with the most vicious glare he can muster, “I didn’t sign up for this shit! I’m leaving! Go cool your fucking head somewhere else before you talk to me again or I’ll swear, I’ll fucking punch your _pretty face_ , you ass!” Taka said, before standing up and leaving a gaping Toru behind.

…

…

Toru blinked.

He…

He don’t know if he should be surprised that Taka had dared to leave him after spitting a shit-ton of _flowery_ words at him or to the fact that the vocalist had just told him that he has a _pretty face_. When he realized that he shouldn’t be thinking about those petty things in that situation, Taka was already gone from his sight.

He groaned and looked up at the dull, gray sky.

_Argh! I messed up!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was dark when Toru finally reached the unit. He took his _sweet time_ on thinking about the things he had said to the vocalist earlier. He took even _more_ time scolding himself for acting like an immature, spoiled kid towards Taka who haven’t done anything wrong— _well, aside from snapping at Toru_ in the park when he, himself, don’t want to gather more attention.

He really don’t want to meet, _let alone talk_ to the vocalist right now; but he guess the he should _man up_ and face the consequences of his shitty attitude earlier.

There was no excuse for snapping at Taka like that. _None at all._

So here he is—standing in front of the vocalist’s apartment unit, fishing out one of the many keys he have and inserting it to the door knob as if he fucking own the place. He turned the key, unlocking the knob with a resounding click.

He was actually expecting to be greeted by a barrage of insults and harsh words, and probably even of slaps and weak punches from the vocalist.

So imagine his utter surprise when _none of those_ came smacking to his face.

…

Instead, there’s a  soft sound of guitar reverberating inside the unit. A set of chords Toru had never heard before.

_Who’s playing the guitar?_

He doubt that Taka would have any visitor at this hour—so the only one who’s probably playing those power chords is the guitarist, right?

_I didn’t know that he can play the guitar…_

He felt the familiar twinge in his chest—the same feeling he’s having whenever he realized that Taka has been hiding things from him.

_When will Taka start to tell me everything about him?_

Toru sighed and pulled of f his shoes at the small _genkan_. Now that he’s in the vocalist’s unit, his enthusiasm is starting to deplete. He doesn’t really have any idea on how to approach Taka, let alone speak with him about the incident earlier.

_Maybe, going here without an actual plan is a bad idea—_

“I know you’re in there, Toru-san,” Toru straightened up when Taka’s strong voice filled the unit, “Are you gonna stand there forever like the _creep_ you are, or what?”

Toru felt his heart beat faster, his hands breaking into clammy sweat as he took small, unsure—and _quite scared_ —steps towards the source of the voice he adore so, _so much_. He turned into a corridor and made a glance at the vocalist—Taka who’s been casually lounging on one of his couch, gently strumming the pristine white acoustic guitar perched on his lap.

He's wearing a thin, white shirt and loose pants, and looking up at Toru as if he’s been waiting for him for ages.

“So…?” Taka hummed expectantly at him, “Where’s the _peace offering_ , Toru-san?”

…

Toru felt at lost. What was Taka talking about? And what’s with his attitude? _It’s as if nothing had happened earlier!_ It was as if Taka is pretending that he’s not been hurt by Toru’s harsh words earlier in the park!

“I…Uh…” Toru gulped nervously, his mind racing to find an appropriate response, “ _Greetings_ , Taka-san.”

…

_Greetings. Fucking greetings. Fuck my life._

…

Taka stared at him for a moment, the hand strumming the taut strings suddenly stilled before he burst out laughing. Toru immediately _regretted_ his words; his cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.

“Y-you should have seen  your face, ahahahahaha!!!”

“I’m _glad_ that I made you laugh,” he blandly said before plopping exhaustedly on the seat across the vocalist. Taka seems to be enjoying his humiliation. His smile is wide, cheeks slightly flushing from utter glee.

“ _Maa_ ,” Taka said, after he managed to calm his silly laughter, “ _Ano saa_ , Toru-san, if you messed up and you want a girl to easily forgive you, you should bring her some _gift_ as peace offerings,” he wisely said, as if he’s some kind of _love expert_.

“What kind of gifts?”

“I don’t know. Flowers or sweets, maybe?” he grinned knowingly, “Girls love  those things!”

Toru raised a brow at the vocalist at that, “But you’re not a girl, Taka.”

…

Taka blinked multiple times before flashing a sickly-sweet ( _which is kinda scary because Toru knows that the vocalist never smile that sweet to him for like, ever_ ) smile at him, “But you still want to apologize to me, don’t you?”

_Are you some kind of psychic?!_

“Well, yeah,” Toru scratched the back of his neck nervously, “I—I’m really… _you know_ , for snapping at you earlier, I’m sorry—,”

“You’re forgiven,” Taka quickly answered before looking down on the strings he’s strumming.

_That was fast!_

“B-but I—,” Toru watched as the smaller teen played the guitar, his nimble fingers plucking the strings clumsily—without the expertise Toru nor Alex-senpai has, “You’re not mad at me?”

“Hmmm?”

“I mean, I threw harsh words at you earlier even if you’ve done nothing wrong… I even doubted your loyalty towards the band—,”

“ _Mou_ , just shut the fuck up, Toru-san,” Taka whined  before looking directly at him, “You’re just frustrated earlier. Everyone knows that someone can snap like a fucking twig when he’s frustrated, right?”

“But—,” he started, not wanting to let go of the argument, “You don’t deserve to be—,”

“Toru-san,” Taka’s fiery orbs shut Toru up, “Remember all the days when I just randomly burst into a _screaming fest_ with you? The times when I just  remained quiet and  brooding? When I’m rude and saying foul words to everyone? When I’m throwing a fucking tantrum just because I can’t eat _popsicles_ just like everybody else—,”

“Yeah, that was _so childish_ of you Taka—,”

“—and whenever I’m feeling down and upset and self-destructing?” Taka ignored the guitarist’s comment, “What I mean is that, _you’re_ always there. You’re always there, _calming me down_ ; you’re always there _putting me back to my place_ , _guiding me_ when I’m lost, _listening_ when I’m ranting, and _soothing_ me when I’m fuming—you we’re always, _always_ there, Toru-san…”

Toru didn’t know what to say at that.

Heck, he can’t even move a muscle as Taka’s eyes bore right through his very soul. It was as if the vocalists want him to understand those words, to force the thoughts into his own mind just by staring at him.

“You don’t deserve to deal with all of my shits,” Taka said, a small, boyish grin forming on his lips, “But you still did—no matter how _impossible_ , how _rude_ , how _unreasonable_ I am— _you still did_. And you think I’d get mad at you just for that _petty_ thing?” he said, huffing like a puppy, before leaning back to the couch, “Don’t underestimate me, Toru-san.”

_I…_

Toru suddenly wanted to cry.

Why is Taka so forgiving?

What did he do deserve this kind, little guy?

_Is this the fruit of all the times I had to deal with his childishness and moodiness for almost a year?!_

Now, Toru want to actually bawl for his good karma.

He tried to blink away the tears forming in the corner of his away, which didn’t escaped the hawk-like eyes of the vocalist.

“ _Awwww_ , is Toru-chan going to cry~?” Taka teasingly asked, letting go of the  guitar before putting up both of his hands to the air, as if he’s beckoning the guitarist to come for a hug, “Come here, let _nii-chan_ comfort you~!”

…

…

...

Toru stared at the vocalist with his blank, expressionless, and _totally unamused_ eyes.

Taka probably feet the chilling atmosphere between them since he suddenly withdrew his hands and placed them on his lap properly.

“Uhm, okay… I think that was a _bit_ weird, _ahahahahahha_ ” he forced a laugh, clearly mortified of his own actions, before grinning as if nothing embarrassing just happened, “Anyway! We can’t really get our hopes high since we’ve not even debuted. Let’s make our dreams more _realistic_ in the meantime. For now, let’s get big on Japan, _ne_? Then when we’re famous and we’ve played on _arenas_ , then we can finally go to America, _ne_?” he announced, confidence practically oozing from his childish voice.

Toru blinked at the sudden change on the vocalist’s demeanor, “What?”

“I said, we’ll _definitely_ go to America, but not just today ahahaha! But _soon_!” Taka enthusiastically said before offering the white guitar to Toru, “But first, I think I can make a good song right now. You think you can play for me?”

Toru stilled at that but accepted the guitar anyways. It’s heavy, the way how acoustic guitars are meant to be, but it rests comfortably on his hands as if he owns it. He tried strumming a few chords, inwardly wincing at the wrong tune. Taka’s probably just a beginner in playing guitar since it’s obvious that he still can’t tune it properly.

Toru subtly glanced at Taka who’s busy writing on a music sheet. He looked quite the _epitome_ of a good vocalist—sitting there, surrounded by a _mess_ of crumpled scratch papers, a pen in hand, and a serious look on his usually grinning face.

He realized that at that moment, Taka had woken up from his _slumber_.

_No, not a real sleeping spree like hibernation but—_

His inner _vocalist-self_ is waking up.

At that moment— _the instant that he declared that he can make a new song_ —Toru felt that everything’s gonna change. That they can—that ONE OK ROCK—can reach great heights with this man.

Sure he can make songs _too_ , but can he make things better for the band? Can he bring the band to further horizons, breaking boundaries and escaping the system the adults had made?

Probably, no, but he— _Taka can_.

_I’m sure of it._

At that very moment, Toru thought, with so much confidence that he felt his chest would expand and explode any moment: “ _This is our vocalist_.”

“Hmmm?” said vocalist looked up from the sheet his writing on to, “What was that, Toru-san? Did you say something?”

Toru shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as he positioned the guitar properly on his lap, “I said, what’s the song title, Taka?”

The vocalist was clearly unconvinced but didn’t made any further comment. Instead, he just grinned, showing a paper full of scribbles and chords, “Keep IT Real.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part is somewhat based on ryeon’s translations when Taka finally started on making songs. I think, Toru was the one who’s writing their earlier songs and it really took a while before Taka got confident enough to suggest/write one?
> 
> I’m also quite aware that Taka has been studying music in Osaka(?) especially on playing guitar so he has been quite familiar with the instrument but I can’t really find the right timing to fit it in the story. Anyways, Taka playing instruments is really, really cool. (Fangirling mode: on XD)  
> The chapter title is quite fitting, don’t you think? 
> 
> Feedbacks and suggestions are always appreciated~!  
> Thanks for reading!


	27. TROUBLEMAKER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not supposed to be a part of the story but I found a good material last Friday and decided to include this~! (Though the chapter with more Toruka would have to wait a bit T^T)
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It’s finally happening.

Taka knew that his odd job of singing solo in some of the live houses before they signed with Amuse would be fucking _beneficial_ in the future—even if Toru-san _blatantly_ displayed his hostility on his job. Toru-san has this weird _possessiveness_ regarding Taka’s voice—saying that he should only sing for the band because he’s _ONE OK ROCK’S vocalist and not other’s_ —that initially pissed the living daylights out of Taka.

_However!_

“I’ve got us a live!” Taka screeched, _like a joyful boy who just got the newest toy in the marke_ t, as he slammed the studio’s door open. He had planned his entrance to be _majestic, cool and full of energy_ —enough that will make his band mates drool with his _awesomeness_ —but that was _easier said than done_ —and Taka learned that in a rather painful way.

He was running at full speed, a paper in hand as he slammed the door open and was about to run towards his friends when his foot decided to trip on a guitar cable—

“Gah!” he yelped before falling _face first_ on the _hard, wooden floor_.

...

A moment of silence ensued inside the studio. Taka wanted to die in _humiliation_. Maybe he’ll just strangle himself with that stupid cable so that he won’t have to face the stupid ( _and definitely taunting_ ) faces of the three.

_They’re definitely laughing at me!_

Even if there’s no annoying laughter resonating inside the studio, Taka still felt all of his blood rushing to his cheeks in complete embarrassment. _Why can’t I even make a thing right, damn it!_

He just wanted to stay there, lying on his stomach, face-first on floor _forever_ ; but when there’s still no howling of laughter from a certain guitarist— _yes, I’m talking about you, Alex_ —Taka decided to reluctantly lift his head, his mind almost _cringin_ g at the look of utter glee on his band mates’ face only to find the entire studio **_EMPTY!_**

_WHAT._

Taka blinked, and _blinked again_ —just to make sure that he hadn’t hit his head that hard that he’s starting to, _uh_ , hallucinate or something. When he’s certain that, _yes_ , _the three is still not in the studio-even if it’s already one o’ clock!_ —he let out a long, hearty groan at his immense luck.

“ _Yoshaa_!” he sighed, still lying on his stomach, “Thank god that they didn’t saw me—,”

“Eh? Mori-chan—,”

“ _GAH!_ ” Taka screamed in shock when Ryota’s voice suddenly filled the studio— _shit SHIT FUCK MUST GET UP_ —

“—what are you doing on the floor?”

_Ah..._

He heard more footsteps coming closer and he’s really, _really_ should be standing up now but his limbs won’t fucking _cooperate_ so he just stayed there, on his spot on the cold floor. His hand tightened into the fist, effectively crumpling the paper he’s been holding to earlier.

“Wow,” he perked up at familiar baritone from the doorway, “Have you finally realized that you’re getting _fatter_ and that you need to exercise—,”

“Of course not, _aho_!” he snapped moodily before resting his cheek— _burning red with embarrassment_ —on the shiny floor, “Ah... fuck my life...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“...you got us a live...?” Toru slowly asked before looking up from the slightly crumpled paper that the vocalist had given him earlier. They’re about to start their usual rehearsal when they arrived in the studio with a Taka lying face first on the floor. Taka said that they shouldn’t mention that incident anymore, for the rest of their life or they’ll have to face the vocalist’s _indoor slippers_ the next time they drop by his unit to hang out.

“...” Taka narrowed his eyes back at him, “...what’s with that tone, huh?”

“Wow!” Ryota said as he looked over Toru’s shoulders to see the printed Homepage on the paper, “You’re awesome, Mori-chan!”

Toru watched as the vocalist’s face visibly lit up at the youngest’s praise. Taka smiled bashfully, putting up his “ _I’m-a-shy-boy_ ” act— _the way he usually do when he’s with girls_ —before crossing his arms over his shirt, “Of course, I’m awesome! That’s the freebies I mentioned ages ago at you, Toru-san! _Hah!_ ”

_Freebies from his previous job, huh..._

Toru glanced at the paper again, his lips twitching to form a small smile of appreciation when he noticed something.

“Why is Ryota’s name written here as _Koala Ryotata_?”

“Eh?!” is Taka and Ryota’s unified reaction. The youngest rudely snatched the paper from the leader and to take a look for himself. He spent quite a long time— _probably an entire minute_ just to read the strangely written name on the Home Page, “Koala Ryotata?! That’s not my name!”

“Obviously,” Toru snorted beside the bassist while Taka just averted his gaze, looking innocently up at the ceiling as if it’s the most interesting in the world. _He’s escaping the responsibilities again, huh?_

“That doesn’t even sound like Japanese,” Alex-senpai nodded.

“Ah! Even Toru-nii’s name here is different!” Ryota pointed out, making the vocalist flinched on his spot. Alex-senpai trudged forward and look on the paper to see if his name is written correctly or what.

“Who the fuck is _Alex Richard Komazawa_?!”

“ _A-re_?” Taka’s brows knitted up in confusion, “Isn’t that your name, Alex?”

“That’s not even close!” the half-American shrieked in disagreement, “How do you even managed to botched up our names like this?!”

Three pair of eyes suddenly focused their attention to the fidgeting vocalist. Gone is the confident, “ _I’m-so-awesome_ ” Taka and instead, he’s starting to act and look like an innocent angel in an attempt to escape their inquisition.

“Eh...” he drawled with his child-like voice, “The event we’re gonna play in, ne? This _‘eckman_ thing needs our names in their homepage so I had to write it all down...”

“But didn’t we already signed a form back then? How come that you’ve muddled up our names?” Toru asked, glaring at the vocalist down. Taka suddenly recoiled, making himself look smaller as the other three tower around him.

“But that form just required our first names!” the vocalist defended, “How the fuck am I supposed to know all of your last names?!”

“Ouch,” Alex feigned hurt in his voice, “We’re already together for _months_ , aren’t we, Mori-chan?”

“We’re _not_ together.”

“You _two_ are not together,” Toru repeated, _like a parrot_ , just to pound that fact into the lead guitarist’s head. Alex-senpai raised a suspicious brow before backing off with a huge, _condescending_ smirk on his lips.

“Sure, Toru. _Sure_.”

“Well, sorry that I’m that poor in Katakana!” Taka blurted out in frustration, “And I can’t really remember all of your last names because they’re not even important?”

“Eh?! But you made me a _Koala_ , Mori-chan!”

“ _Mou_!” Taka said, roughly running his fingers through his hair, “I’m sorry, okay?! The organizers were really damn pushy and they’re asking the name of the members on the spot and since I don’t really give a _flying fuck_ about your full names, I just _bombed_ it with random names!”

_Add that to your horrible skill in writing in Katakana and we have a mixture of odd, out of this world names,_ Toru thought bitterly. He really wanted to say that aloud but again, he still loves his _pretty face_ to risk it with an intimate kissing scene with Taka’s choice of weapon.

“Then you should have make my name cool like _Justin Michael Francis_ ,” Alex-senpai solemnly said making Taka gaped at him as if he just dropped the corniest joke of the century.

“Or _Discussion_ Yamada,” Ryota said next.

_What the hell._

Toru inwardly groaned at the other two’s antics. They’re talking about silly names with a _serious face_ and it’s starting to annoy him! _I need to stop them before this conversation gets worse—_

“That’s not even a name!” the vocalist snapped— _Hai, Taka, that’s right, make them shut the fuck up_ —before cradling his chin as he hummed thoughtfully, “ _Jaa_ , how about _Monalisa Parking_?”

_Gah! You dumb, stupid, easy-to-influenced idiot!_

Toru couldn’t care less if his vocabulary is limited to the variants of the word _‘stupid’_. What matters now is how the vocalist’s suggestion sparked another foolish and excited babbling between the three.

“Isn’t that a girl’s name, Mori-chan?”

“Really?” Taka said, “Eh. That’s weird...”

_Whatever._ Toru had enough of these bullshits so he decided that it’s about high time to take things seriously so they can proceed with their rehearsals.

“Who’s the event host anyway, Taka?”

The vocalist’s head snapped towards him at that, “Eh? He’s an acquaintance of mine back in my job downtown— _Hanada Shinji_?”

“So we’re gonna perform in a live house again?” Ryota asked, his voice slightly shaking in nervousness, “Even without a drummer?”

“Yeah, even without the drums,” Taka nodded seriously, “And this is not in some live house. It’s in an open field and we’re the opening act for this _‘eckman_ thing.”

Alex dreamily sighed and looked up at the celling, “ _Opening act huh_... I never thought that we’ll be opening for someone in our band’s entire career...”

“Yeah because I’ve always thought that _others would be the one opening for us_ ,” Toru bluntly said, making everyone let out a collective gasp of disbelief, “...in the future, though.”

...

“What? Why are you all looking at me like _that_?”

“You’re really that optimistic, huh, Toru-san?” Taka asked, making Toru remember their recent conversation about aiming to be the best in Japan first before going to America, before standing beside the band leader, “ _Maa_ , let’s first practice for the event, ne? We’ve been asked to perform 5 songs and we only have a few so...?”

All four of them exchanged knowing looks.

“We’re gonna do covers,” he grimly announced, “About the drums, I think I can ask my other acquaintance to be our temporary support member. He’s a sensei from ESP so...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The day of the live came.

The moment they stepped into the outdoor venue, Taka can already feel that it’s different from performing in a live house. While the usual live houses offer dark, intimate connection with the few audience they have, performing in the open air, under the blue, _blue_ sky is much more exciting.

_And nerve-wracking._

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Ryota said, doubling over in a corner as they walked towards the stage with the look of awe plastered on their faces.

“Dammit!” Taka hissed as he rushed towards the bassist and gave him his ever-ready bottle of water, “I told you not to overthink about this live! Just do the usual, ne?” he said, in a hopefully soothing manner as he rubbed the youngest’s back while he try to empty his stomach.

“But I usually just _stand in a corner_ during our performance, Mori-chan!”

“Then just stand in a corner this time!”

Ryota emptied his stomach once more, “I think I’m gonna die...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru, on the other hand, watched the interaction with mild interest. It’s not like he didn’t care about Ryota’s wellbeing but he really can’t bring himself to care especially when they’re standing just a few steps from the stage where they’re gonna perform.

He animatedly bounced on his feet, jumping and attempting to play guitar in the air—like a totally hyperactive child.

_We’re gonna perform tonight in a different venue!_

Just by thinking about it, he can feel his blood sizzling with anticipation and adrenaline—making him giddy and restless.

_I even invited my parents today..._

Now that he’s thinking about it—

“Oi, Ryota,” he said, skipping towards the teen who’s gulping the water from their vocalist’s bottle— _that was really kind of you, Taka_ —wincing as he saw the dead, zombie-like face of their bassist, “Stop puking your guts out. That’s really _lame_.”

“Wow, Toru-san,” Taka said sardonically, “Thank you for your _concern_ to our youngest member!”

“Wow, Mori-chan,” Alex-senpai echoed behind Toru, “Thank you for acting like a _dutiful mother_ to our youngest member~!”

“OH YOU FUCKING _IKEMEN_ —,”

When the two oldest member of the band started giving each other the deadly looks, Ryota decided that it’s about time to stop whimpering like a bullied child. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced towards their leader.

“ _Gomen_ , Toru-nii,” he mumbled, ignoring the live _kung-fu_ fighting that erupted between Mori-chan and Alex-senpai somewhere in the background, “I’m just really, really nervous and I think my intestines want to come out.”

Taka stopped his _karate_ move and made a disgusted face at that, “We really don’t need the mental image, Ryota-kun.”

“Buuuut—,”

“ _Mou_!” Toru-nii suddenly snapped, effectively shutting up the three restless teenagers ( _who are all acting like preschool brats_ ), “Stop snivelling like a wimpy kid, Ryota. Your family is coming today, right?”

“What?!” Taka’s eyes widened at that revelation, “All the way from Osaka? You’re that confident that this performance would turn out fine?”

“ _So, that’s it, huh_...” Alex-senpai thoughtfully said, “You’re oozing with confidence even though you’re retching your internal organs out, huh?”

“Eh? _Chigau, chigau_!” Ryota said, in a futile attempt to save his dignity, or something, “It’s just that this is our first live outdoors so I thought they’ll be glad to see me—,” Alex-senpai’s eyes glinted with mischief, “I mean— _our_ —our performance even once! _Mou_!” he then blushed to the tips of his ears and dove his face onto his palms to hide his embarrassment, “Didn’t you also called your parents, Toru-nii?!”

Taka’s head snapped towards the rhythm guitarist this time, “Eh?!”

“Hai,” Toru nodded seriously, ignoring the shocked look on the vocalist’s face, “I think they’re on their way now.”

“My sister’s also coming,” Alex-senpai suddenly said, raising a fit to prevent himself from laughing at Ryota’s look of betrayal, “What?”

“Eh! You’re asking me why I called my parents even though _you also_ called your sister to watch?!”

“You’re just too fun to tease, Ryota,” the eldest grinned as he sling an arm around the pouting bassist’s shoulders, “Since you’re still a _blushing virgin_.”

“Gah!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

While Ryota is running after his teasing senpai in the wide, open field, Taka is immersed in his deep thoughts.

_So, everyone has their family coming to support them, huh..?_

A small, sad smile made its way on his lips as he watched the two bickering idiots.

_Ii na...How I wish that—_

“You’re—,”

“Gah!” he shrieked when an arm suddenly looped around his shoulder—he looked up to see Toru-san looking down at him with a weird expression on his face—those unblinking eyes looking down at him as if he’s _dissecting_ his very soul, “W-what— _DO YOU WANT TO SCARE ME TO DEATH OR SOMETHING_?!”

Toru-san _gently_ squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner, _as if he knew whatever Taka is currently thinking_ , “You’re having that _look_ again.”

Taka is hyperaware of the hand on his shoulder so he _suspiciously_ stared at it for a moment before answering, “...what _look_?”

“Like when you’re sad but you’re still trying to look like everything’s okay.”

“Everything’s _okay_ ,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Really?”

“ _Really_.”

Taka can feel Toru-san’s intense and totally unconvinced gaze at him but he refused to budge and glance back at the taller teen. He just stubbornly stared ahead and kept his mouth shut for a minute, like a sulking brat until the guitarist finally relented and just sighed in defeat.

“Let’s meet my family later,” he said as he retreated his arm and stepped away from the vocalist, “Let’s go out to eat somewhere after the live, ne?”

Taka blinked at the taller teen— _his body subtly missing the warmth of the guitarist’s arm around him_ —WAIT, WHAT THE HECK—as his eyes followed his energetic movements.

“But isn’t it supposed to be a quality time with your family, Toru-san?”

“Eh?” the band leader tilted his head in a childish fashion before nodding, “...yeah. But Ryota and Alex-senpai would also probably go out with their families so—,”

Taka’s eyes narrowed at that.

_I don’t need your pity._

_I don’t need anyone’s pity._

“—I thought that this is the best time to _introduce_ you to my family!” he joyfully announced as if it’s the most normal thing to do. Taka blinked his bitterness away and stared at the guitarist.

And stared _more_.

…

They we’re too silent that Taka can even hear the wind breezing past him.

…

“ _Ano saa_ , Toru-san...” he finally said afterwards, “...why are you’re talking as if I’m a _girlfriend_ who’s supposed to meet your family for the first time..?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This was supposed to be their first ever live. The 'eckman thing and Hanada Shinji are legit-based on the full translation of their NHK Soundcreator's File. (Check it out guys, it's so hilarious. Translations are obviously not mine.). Anyways, since I've already made them perform in the earlier chapters, I just made this to be their first outdoor live (or someshit).  
> -Taka bombing out everyone's name IS TOTALLY TRUE. They were just highschool back then and booked this live about 3 months after the band's formation, hence his lack of knowledge about everyone's full name. However, the only legit name (as mentioned in the translation and audio file) was the Ryotata-part. I just made up the others. Again, since this happened quite later in my fic, I just blame it on Taka's poor Katakana-writing shits (sorry Taka XD).  
> -The part wherein Toru and Ryota's family were supposed to come is legit.  
> -I can't include the lyrics for the chapter title since I can't find a copy of their Demo Album, Do You Know A Christmas (which includes this, Do you know a christmas, and Mistake)
> 
> Anyways~!
> 
> Thanks for reading (even though I have a shit-ton of plot-holes and typos and grammar errors! (Watch out for more, because I totally have a gazillion of them in the next chapters). Also, thanks for the kudos and comments. You guys are always making me happy by doing so!


	28. MISTAKE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How the band's engine was created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading this, please be noted that the engine I'm talking about is the thing they've been doing before their lives. You know, the kind of cheering while they're huddling?
> 
> Anyways, back to the story~!
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not mine.

“What do you mean by _sound check_?” Taka asked back when the sound engineer suddenly called them towards the stage. Taka tilted his head, blinking up at the taller man as he wrack his mind for the meaning of that, “What’s that?”

The engineer stared at him as if he just asked for _both_ of his kidneys.

“Toru-nii!” they heard Ryota whined somewhere in the background, “Where should I plug this jack?

“How should we tune this again...?” Alex-senpai hummed, looking quite frustrated down on his electric guitar.

“ _Ne, ne_ ,” Toru said as he stared at the huge amplifiers at the rear part of the stage, “Does anyone of you knows how to set our instruments up? ‘Coz I don’t have any fucking idea, seriously...”

Taka winced at that, warily glancing at the engineer who’s staring at him as if he just asked for his _life_ or something.

“Are you...” after what it seems like forever, the man finally had the guts to ask the probably most important question of the day, “Are you sure that you’re really a _band_?”

Taka let out an offended gasp at that, “Of course we are! We’ve even released our first EP! We just look like a group of high school kids who loves _fooling_ around but we’re not! We’re really quite confident with our skills, right guys?!”

“ _Huh?_ ” All three of them suddenly looked up, looking confused at the vocalist’s question, “What?”

_GIVE ME SOME SUPPORT HERE DAMMIT!_

“S-see?” Taka winced when he stuttered in an attempt to redeem their band’s dignity. The sound engineer doesn’t look like he’s buying the _bullshit_ Taka is spouting so he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Never mind,” the engineer said after much time of consideration— _probably thinking on how to kick their sorry asses out of the stage_ — “How do you want the sound to be like?”

Taka felt himself sweating _bullets_ at that.

_Eh?! What?! I totally don’t know!_

He looked around, frantically searching for the strong, unblinking eyes of their leader but to his ultimate disappointment, Toru-san is busy tuning and cursing his guitar— _DAMN, WHERE ARE YOU WHEN I NEED YOU THE MOST, AHO!_

“Uhhhh…” he gulped before looking back at the engineer who’s impatiently tapping his shoe on the floor boards, “…Just make it _adequate_ , na?”

…

_W-why are you always looking at me as if I just said something stupid, huh?!_

Taka really, _really_ wanted to explode and throw a huge tantrum but he knows that it will not bring any good for them. However, he can’t prevent himself from blushing because of the humiliation he gets just by talking with this sound engineer.

_And I’m not even the **leader,** dammit!_

_Why am I the one talking with these people, huh?!_

The engineer nodded, a bit slowly like he’s still digesting the shit Taka just said, before going back to the equipment, “Okay. Let’s just tune your instruments and after that, you can wait backstage for the start of the show, ne?”

Taka felt like a child being scolded so he just meekly nodded, “H-hai…”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I think I just _burned_ all of my remaining brain cells,” Taka groaned after the sound check shits they pulled. He’s currently sitting on the grass, leaning back on his hands as he basks on the warm sunlight shining on his face. He curled and uncurled his toes, which finally got their freedom from his constricting shoes. “If I even had one in the first place.”

“I didn’t expect that performing live in different venue would be so _different_ …” Toru-san mumbled across him as he cradled the guitar on his lap. He’s staring at it as if the instrument can answer all of their questions and doubt with their upcoming performance, “I don’t even understand _half_ of what the engineer was saying earlier.”

“I don’t understand _anything_ he said, Toru-nii.”

“We’re still that young, huh…?” Alex thoughtfully said, making Taka glance at the three—he inwardly winced at the _lack of enthusiasm_ on everyone’s face. Well, how can you even be pumped up when your lack of knowledge just slapped you on your face— _really hard_?

_So, even after all the performances we’ve done in live houses, we’re still this dumb, huh..?_

Taka sighed. Well, it’s true that they still somewhat _sucking_ here and there but that’s no reason to feel down. Especially just before a live! _Their first outdoor live!_

_So why is everyone’s looking like someone just died?!_

To Taka’s immense irritation, he kicked Toru’s legs. _Hard._

The guitarist yelped, “What the _fuck_?!”

Alex and Ryota watched them, their eyes wide and worried especially when Toru-san viciously glared at him.

“That’s supposed to be my line!” Taka huffed, “What the hell is this _gloomy_ atmosphere?! We’re supposed to be filled with _excitement_ and _passion_ and _shits_ because this is our first outdoor performance!”

Toru-san stared at him as if he just grew another set of limbs, “Eh…”

“I don’t know, Mori-chan,” Alex said, “When we’re at the stage earlier, I can’t help but feel quite _intimidated_ …We look like _lost preschool children_ up there, you know?”

“Especially you, Mori-chan,” Ryota nodded, making Taka let out a scandalized gasp, “Your mouth’s hanging open the whole time you’re talking with the engineer, ne?”

“Gah! Then try talking to him, you idiot!” he shrieked, “He’s like speaking _French_! I don’t have any fucking idea on what the fuck he’s talking about!”

“Too much _fuck_ in a sentence,” Toru off-handedly commented as he put his guitar down onto the grass, with so much care like he’s laying a newborn baby on the grass, “So what should we do? We can’t just motivate ourselves in an instant, right?”

“I don’t know,” Taka crossed his arm, and arched a brow at the rhythm guitarist, “Isn’t that _your_ job as our _leader_?”

Alex whistled at that, “Oooooh, that _burns_!”

“Stop them, Alex-senpai!” Ryota said, clinging onto his senior’s arms as if his life depended on it, “They’re gonna fight again then we’re gonna be doomed in _front_ of our families!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru narrowed his eyes at the vocalist—wanting nothing but to punch that _cute, little_ face until he’s satisfied. He really _hates_ this side of Taka—the _grouchy, blunt, moody, tyrant_ side—but he guess that they are what makes Taka complete and he should accept them as welcoming as he accepted Taka’s other side, you know, his _kind, loving, doting, and vulnerable_ side.

“Then, let’s uh, make a _cheer_ or something before our performance,” he grimly announced, effectively gathering everyone’s attention. Especially Alex-senpai’s leering grin.

“Ah, you handled Mori-chan’s bitchiness like a _PRO_ already, huh— _ouch_!” he jerked back when Taka’s foot accidentally kicked his longer shin, “The fuck—,”

“Who has _bitchiness_ , huh?!” Taka demanded, glaring at the oldest teen with all his _cute_ might, “Huh?!”

“ _Matte, matte_!” Ryota instantly get between the two quarrelling oldest teens, “Don’t fiiiight. Let’s work together to make a good cheer ne—,”

“You! You and your foul moodiness!” the to everyone’s horror, Alex-senpai grinned lasciviously towards their fuming vocalist, “Do you perhaps, still have your _period_ or wh—,”

“ _OH NOW YOU FUCKING DID IT_!” Taka sprung into action and was about to _tackle_ the lead guitarist— _with Ryota quickly crawling away to escape the possible punches and kicks that may accidentally land on his face_ —if not for Toru who hugged the vocalist to keep him away from Alex-senpai.

“JESUS! Stop fighting!” he yelled as he practically dragged the struggling vocalist away, “Start acting like mature adults already!”

“But he started it!” Taka cried, like a _bullied_ child, pointing his finger towards the other guitarist, “I need to pulverize his _stupidly, good-looking_ face RIGHT NOW—,”

Toru massaged his aching temple with his free hand—the other is still tightly holding onto the collar of Taka’s shirt, before mustering the coldest, most authoritative face he can pull up.

“ ** _STOP FUCKING AROUND OR WE’RE GOING HOME RIGHT NOW._** ”

His deep baritone was so loud that even the other performers stopped whatever they’re doing and glanced confusedly at this odd group of fighting teenagers. The other three cringed at the _totally pissed off_ aura that he’s practically emitting at the moment and cowered like _scared, little puppies_.

Ryota stilled on his spot, Alex-senpai stopped grinning like a pervert, and Taka stopped kicking and struggling but still pouted stubbornly.

_Okay._

Toru breathe a sigh of relief at that display of submission before he finally let go of Taka’s shirt.

“Let’s just proceed ne? Taka is right,” he glanced at the vocalist who’s still refusing to grace him with his attention, “Let’s make a cheer. Or what was it called? The thing B’z is doing before their lives?” he asked, glancing around, praying that he’s not talking to, _you know_ , just air.

“Ah!” to his surprise, it was Taka who instantly answered him— _damn moodiness, swinging like a fucking pendulum again_ —, “I also saw that one! It’s called an— _eh?_ What was that again?”

“I thought you know the answer, _mou_!”

“I know it! It just suddenly _slipped off_ my mind!” Taka cried in indignation.

“ _Anooo_ ,” Alex-senpai slowly raised his hand as if he’s a diligent student in a class recitation, “Is this from the DVD we watched at Mori-chan’s place a week ago? I think it’s called an _engine_?”

“Yah!” Toru and Taka said in unison as they pointed their fingers towards the slightly shocked lead guitarist, “That’s the one!”

“It’s the _nama-icho-yorokonde_ -thingie right?” Alex-senpai asked, a huge smile now splitting his lips. Taka enthusiastically nodded, as if they’re not planning to _murder each other_ just a few moments ago.

“Hai, hai! That’s the one! It’s cool right—,”

Without any announcement of sorts, Toru suddenly bellowed a loud, “ **NAMAI-CHO**!”

“ **YOROKONDE**!” everyone answered right after, without even thinking about it. The other performers, again, looked at their direction—probably wondering why the fuck they are imitating the legendary Japanese rock band.

“Eh?!” Taka looked around afterwards, “Say _something_ if we’re gonna do it!”

“ _Jaa_ ,” Toru smirked at the vocalist, “Let’s do it! **NAMAI-CHO**!”

“ _Haya_ — **YOROKONDE**!” Taka made a face after, “ _Mou_ , that was too fast!”

“Ahahahaha, Mori-chan, your face!” Ryota said, laughing at the flustered look on the vocalist’s face when he doesn’t have any choice but to shout YOROKONDE along with the other members.

“Shut up!”

“That felt good, huh?” Alex-senpai said as he leaned back on his arm, “It’s from the B’z right? Let’s steal it!”

“Eh?! Why would you?!” Taka said at the absurd suggestion, “We shouldn’t!”

“Eh, but they’re really cool,” Toru said, listing out the countless reasons why they should just copy the other band’s engine, “Plus we’re gonna be the same as them. Isn’t that great?”

“Absolutely not!” he made a cross-figure with his arms before blinking thoughtfully, “ _Maa_ , they’re really cool and stuff but we should still make our own—,”

“ **NAMAI-CHO**!”

“ **YOROKONDE** —eh, _chigau_!” he said even after joining the cheer, “Stop suddenly starting it, Toru-san!”

“Eh…” the leader stubbornly drawled before sighing, “Let’s make our own, huh? How do we do _that_?”

Taka shrugged, “No idea. I just _fried_ all of my brain cells, remember?”

“Me!” Ryota suddenly shouted, roughly shoving Alex-senpai in the process as he crawled towards the others, “I have an _awesome_ idea!”

Toru gulped at that. Last time Ryota had an _awesome_ idea, he ended up in a hospital for a surgery. His mind is practically screaming at him to not trust the youngest’s suggestion but no one seems to have any other idea so he just let it be.

_However ridiculous it might be._

Ryota grinned from ear to ear, his childish face brightening up as if he someone just gave him the most delicious candy in the world, “Remember what Toru-nii usually say whenever he arrives at the garage?”

_WHAT._

“Huh?” Toru’s brows knitted in confusion, “What are you talking about, Ryota?”

“You always say ‘ _cheeeee_ ’ whenever we you arrive, right?”

“ _Wrong_ ,” he instantly answered, but that didn’t falter the bassist’s determination in humiliating him or some shit, “I don’t remember saying that.”

“But it’s real!”

_Not you too, Alex-senpai!_

“I thought he’s saying ‘ _cheese_ ’ or ‘ _yiiiiz_ ’ back then!”

Taka looked between Ryota and Alex-senpai in confusion and mild interest, “What? When was this? I never heard Toru-san saying things like that?”

“That’s before you join, Mori-chan,” Ryota said, with a smug look on his face as if he’s revealing something important, “Toru-nii’s tension was so _high_ back then! Did he already told you the story how he formed the band? He woke me up in the _middle_ of the night!”

Taka blandly smiled at that, remembering how Toru-san told that story even if he _blatantl_ y said that he doesn’t want to hear any of it. _Such forceful guy, Toru-san is._

“So, when he arrives at Yu-senpai’s garage, he would always says ‘ _cheeeee_ ’!”

“That’s weird,” Taka decided as he glanced at the speechless guitarist— _who’s torn between running away in embarrassment and/or strangling Ryota with  his own hands_ —“even for you, Toru-san.”

“Because it really didn’t happen!”

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Alex-senpai said, ignoring the blushing leader, “So, what if Leader-sama is saying weird things back then, Ryota?”

“I was thinking that maybe we should base our, uh, _elfi_ —,”

“Engine,” Taka helpfully said.

“— _engine_? Eh?” the bassist thought for a moment before giving this “ _I don’t fucking care anymore_ ” look, “yeah, maybe we should base our engine to that?”

“HELL, NO!” is Toru’s immediate answer. Too bad, no one is actually listening to him because the other three are already busy conspiring for their new engine!

“So…” Taka said as the other— _as well as Toru, albeit begrudgingly_ —members drew closer and formed a distorted circle, _you know_ , the kind of thing sports players usually does when their talking about strategies on how to crush their opponents?

“How should we do this?” he asked.

“Maybe we should take out our hands?” Alex-senpai said. The others obeyed.

“I still don’t get why we should base it on that stupid greetings,” he mumbled but put his hand over Taka’s nonetheless.

“Okay,” Taka looked up at everyone, “What now?”

Alex-senpai shrugged while Ryota is bouncing animatedly on his spot. The longer they stood there, huddling and just staring at each other with the same lost looks on their faces, the more Toru think of this attempt as a _ridiculous_ shit.

“Let’s try the _chee_ part first Mori-chan!”

“Then you lead it, aho!”

“Eh?! Why _me?_!”

“Didn’t you thought about this, Ryota?” Toru asked impatiently. His back is starting to hurt because of bending like that to reach Taka’s hand, “Just say something and we’ll figure the next thing out.”

“Ehhhh…” Ryota whined like a kicked puppy and was about to back out but when Toru-nii gave him this “do-that-and-you’re-fucking-dead” look, he swallowed up his pride and manned up, “Eh…Let’s try this then, let’s say **OHHHH CHEEEE—HIIIII—OI!!!”**

…

A long _, awkward_ silence followed after that. Three pair of unbelieving eyes set their focus on Ryota. The bassist felt like he’s been judged by a _shit-ton of people_ but he endured it, even when Alex-senpai suddenly doubled over, howling in laughter.

…

“Do you really want to _die_ , Ryota,” Toru said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Eh?! _NANDE_?!”

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Taka said in a placating manner, even though he’s smiling a bit too widely, as if he’s preventing himself from just laughing out loud and further embarrass their youngest member, “Let’s give it a try, ne?”

“…”

“...”

“...”

…

“How do we even know if it’s time to start yelling?” Toru asked when a full minute passed and no one said anything.

“Maybe we should count up to three?”

“Okay, let’s try that.”

“Here we go!” Taka said, “One, Two, Three—,”

“ **OHHHH...CHEEEE...HIIIII...OI???**!!!” They cheered, pumping their hands along the syllables of their ‘ _engine_ ’ shits. Ryota probably thought that everything would be fine but it wasn’t— _well, probably because everyone cheered like a tortoise_ —slow and low and totally unenergetic—the complete _opposite_ of what they should do when they’re cheering themselves up.

“Well..” Taka cleared his throat awkwardly afterwards, “That went _quite_ …”

“RIDICULOUS,” Toru bluntly said.

“Embarrassing.”

“Eh? Maybe,” the band leader stared at Ryota whit his usual impassive face, making the bassist gulp in nervousness, “we should…uh…say the ‘ _hiiii’_ part in a higher tone?”

Taka tried it, well, since, he’s the only one capable of doing higher notes as easy as _walking in park_ , “ **CHEEEE-HIIII~!** ” he said, ending the cheer with a high-pitched, almost squealing voice, “like that?”

“ _Hai, hai_! That’s it, Mori-chan!”

Toru grunted at that. Why is Taka even entertaining Ryota’s silly suggestions? Is having this so-called engine really that _important_?

“Maybe we should stop—,”

“Okay, one more time!” Taka said, conveniently cutting whatever Toru is planning to say, “Let’s be more energetic ne?”

“Hai…” the others shyly responded.

“ **I SAID MORE ENERGETIC YOU WIMPY SHITS!** ”

“H-hai?!”

“Hai!” Taka nodded in satisfaction when they answered with a bit more force and louder voice, “Take out your hands!”

“So _demanding_ —,”

“ **OHHHH CHEEEE—HIIIII—OI**!!!” they said, louder and definitely with more enthusiasm than before. The higher pitched ending was a good one, despite sounding like  _girl’s high-pitched shriek_.

“Whoa!” Alex-senpai said afterwards, “That’s nice! I’m feeling a lot better now!”

“Right?!” Ryota jumped on his spot in excitement, “I think we’re getting a bit closer to B’z’s level because of that!”

Toru wanted to say that they’re not even closer to the band’s _shadow_ but he kept that to himself. He really don’t want to dampen everyone’s spirit, especially now that they’ve finally, somewhat, recovered.

“So, are we done or what—,”

“But if we’re gonna do that every live,” Taka suddenly said, again, effectively cutting off Toru’s words, “isn’t lame that we’re just gonna count then scream like girls? That’s not cool, right?”

“Maybe we should have some _opening shits_ ,” Alex-senpai commented—making Toru roll his eyes in exasperation for dealing with these _insatiable idiots_ around him—“I’ve recently watched a baseball game and they’re like pumping themselves up with cheesy words before shouting like that in the end. Maybe we should do the same?”

“Then you do that opening remarks, Alex,” Taka instantly said. The lead guitarist recoiled as if he’s just been scalded by boiling water.

“That’s impossible!” he cried, “I’m only great in baseball but I’m still an idiot!”

“ _THEN WHO WOULD START THIS SHIT_ —,”

“I really think that we should stop this—,”

“ _Mou_!” Taka snapped, roughly exhaling before gathering everyone into a huddle again, “Okay, I’ll try so we can end this as soon as possible. Just respond _you idiots_! I f no one will answer me then no one’s gonna eat dinner at my house anymore, okay?!”

“E-eh—,”

“ _Matte, matte_ —,”

Toru felt himself sweat profusely at that. There’s _no way_ that he can live without the vocalist’s daily cooking! He’d rather die than to miss a simple yet delicious meal from Taka’s kitchen! So, with the most intense aura he can muster, he came forward and huddled together— _I’d rather do this humiliating shits than to never ate his meals forever!_

He nodded to himself, quite satisfied with his resolve.

“Okay everyone!” Taka started, “Take out your hands!”

_We’re already doing that, Taka, can’t you see?_

“Listen up, we only have one day today,” Taka’s strong voice filled that part of the backstage, gathering more attention from the other performers.

“Hai,” Toru dutifully answered, earning a surprise look from Ryota and Alex-senpai.

“This is a day we can’t feel sad about. We need to perform well for the audience even though we’re only the opening act—,”

“Hai!”

“They probably didn’t even came to watch us, but that doesn’t matter at all!”

“Hai!”

“Our goal is to let everyone who came here to watch to have fun! But before even doing that, if we don’t enjoy this live ourselves, we can’t make it happen!”

“Hai!”

“Are you guys ready?!”

“ _Osu!_ ”

“Louder now!”

“ **HAI!** ”

“ **LET’S GO**!”

“ **OHHHH CHEEEE—HIIIII—OI!!!** ” they shouted at the top of their lungs, raising their hands up into the air to detangle from everyone else’s. Everyone suddenly feel their blood sizzling with adrenaline, the excitement creeping p into their body as they panted for air after their intense cheering.

“That feels great!” Taka said, his almond-eyes wide with amazement as he stared at his open palm, “We should do this whenever we’re gonna perform!”

“Mori-chan’s heads up is really inspiring and motivating!” Ryota said making the vocalist blinked in surprise—a vivid scarlet forming high on his cheeks at the small act of appreciation, “You should do that every live!”

Taka’s smile instantly vanished at that, “Eh?! You’re just passing the responsibilities to me!” he then abruptly pointed towards the rhythm guitarist, “Toru-san should be the one saying those shits!”

“Me?! Why me?”

Taka threw a nasty glance at him, “You’re the band leader, _DUH_.”

Toru tilted his head in apprehension. Sure, he got the title of the bandleader, albeit the fact that everyone just _pushed that responsibility to him_ in the start, but he’s sure as hell that he’s not capable of delivering moving speech like that. He prefers answering a shit ton of “Hai’s” rather than wrack his _almost non-existent_ brain every time they’ll gonna perform in the future.

“ _Muri deshou_!” he said, shaking his head in a resolute manner, “That’s just impossible!”

Taka sighed, “ _Jaa_ , you’ll have to answer to me _ALWAYS_ from now on, okay? I  you ever leave me hanging I swear I’m gonna kick your ass really, _really_ _HARD_ ,” he said, threatening a full-grown man as if he’s not a few inches shorter than Toru. He even narrowed those round eyes just to emphasize his point— _or look like a scary yet cute-as-fuck Pokémon._

“Haaaaiiii!”

Suddenly, Alex-senpai started coughing— _wait, is he laughing_ —before he howled in laughter, with tears forming in the corner of his eyes. There’s really nothing funny but he suddenly laugh as if he just heard the best punch line of the century.

“It’s so hila—hilarious _ahahahaha_ Mori-chan bitching out Toru like a _girlfriend_ AHAHAHAHAHAHA—,”

“Wait, Alex-senpai!” Ryota said warily, trying to calm the shits out of their lead guitarist, especially when the vocalist’s face instantly darkened with promises of another kung-fu session and scream fest, “Don’t—,”

“ _WHO’S THE GIRLFRIEND YOU_ —,”

“Wait, Taka—,” but Toru’s lame attempt in preventing the older teen from running after the lead guitarist was too late—the two oldest had already launched themselves in the _most intense_ game of tag he had ever seen in his life.

“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!” Taka roared as he ran after the half-American— _bare-footed and with a flustered face_. Alex-senpai, instead of fearing for his life, ran even faster— _damn him and his good athletic skills_ —a pure look of glee on his face.

“If you can even catch me, vocalist-chaaan~!” he taunted that made the said vocalist even more furious and bloodthirsty.

Ryota on the other hand, leapt onto his feet and ran after the vocalist—

“Wait, Mori-chan!” he yelled, bringing Taka’s shoes up in the air, “It’s _dangerous_ to ran around without shoes—eh?! Mori-chan!” Ryota yelled in shock as the vocalist suddenly vanished from his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think happened to our vocalist? XD
> 
> -This part was still a part of their first live (especially the first part where they look like complete idiots)  
> -The part where they've created their 'engine' was also from the full translation of the Soundcreator's File. The only legit thing is that they've derived it from Toru-san's weird greetings whenever he arrived during their practices. Namai-cho-Yorokonde was also somewhat legit.  
> -The part where Taka ran around-barefooted-was actually from their first Fes performance (the Mujinto Festival, if I'm not mistaken) but I included it in this chapter (and the next one) since it somehow fits in the plot.
> 
> And so~!
> 
> Thank you for reading~!
> 
> Feedbacks, comments and suggestions are always well appreciated~


	29. Do You Know A Christmas?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final Part~! 
> 
> Taka's meeting with the Yamashita couple (and a few toruka moments)
> 
>  
> 
> "It would be foolish to trample my mind  
> It would be foolish to scare my loneliness"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gone for two days AND PAPA TOMATO IS ALREADY A DAD?! CONGRATULATIONS, TOMOYA-SAN!
> 
> This chapter ended up as a long one since I don't know where to split it? Besides, this arc is already taking looooong so let's proceed to the next (with more toruka moments) one, ne?
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

One moment, Taka is running ahead at _top speed_ , and the next, he _tripped over_ and rolled around the grass before letting out a loud cry of distress.

“Fuck _fuck shiiiiiit_!” he growled, cradling his foot.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The moment Taka went rolling like _an injured animal_ , the other three members sprung to their feet and rushed towards the vocalist in distress. It was Toru, however, who made it _first_ —instantly crouching beside the curled up form of Taka.

“W-what happened?!” he asked, surveying the messy hair and earth-covered vocalist, “Are you alright?!”

“Do I look like I’m fucking _alright_ to you?!” Taka snapped, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he cradled his injured foot. He glanced down and gasped when he saw so much blood on his big toe, “ _B-blood_?!”

“Blood?!” the other three _dumbly_ repeated.

“Why is there so much blood?!” Taka’s eyes went wide with panic as he clutched the nearest object within reach— _which was unfortunately Toru-san’s clothes_ —as if his life depended on it, “Am I _dying_?! I don’t want to die!” he then turned his glassy, _helpless_ eyes towards the rhythm guitarist, “I- I don’t want to die, Toru-san! I don’t even like pain, _dammit_!” he said before sniffling.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meanwhile, Toru caught himself getting _lost_ on the crying face of the vocalist. He knows it’s _weird_ — _especially if the said vocalist is whimpering like an injured puppy in his arms_ —but Taka really _, really_ look **_good_** like that—his brows are scrunched up in fear, almond eyes glassy with tears relentlessly cascading over his tear-streaked, flushed cheeks— _WHAT WAIT WAIT_ —

_WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT THOSE THINGS?!_

_TAKA’S INJURED HERE, DAMMIT!_

“I think his entire nail came off,” Alex-senpai said as he inspected the source of the crimson liquid before looking up with his grim look on his face— _as if he’s a doctor who’s about to break the news of death to a family member_ —“I think he needs to go to the hospital—,”

“WHAT?!” is the band’s collective reaction. Taka, however, took it the _hardest_.

“What?! No!” he said, biting his plump lower lip—whether it’s because of pain or frustration, Toru doesn’t really know—all that he knows is that it made Taka look _even better_ —

“We have a live in the next hour—,”

“How can you even perform _with all that blood on you_ , Mori-chan?” is Alex-senpai’s strong and low response. Toru and Ryota winced at that—they knew that _shit’s definitely gonna go down_ whenever Alex-senpai—the _ever-smiling and laughing_ Alex-senpai—used that rare, authorative voice of his.

Taka’s mouth instantly zipped itself at that. He looks like a stubborn brat who just got his ass handed to him by the lead guitarist. His lips quivered and his almond eyes grew wider, in an attempt to prevent more tears from spilling out. Hell, Toru was gone just from that _sight_.

He really can’t stand it whenever Taka is displaying that look of _pure vulnerability_ —like he’s trying to be brave and shits when it’s fucking _obvious_ that he’s not.

“I...” Ryota softly said afterwards as he put the vocalist’s shoes beside the shaking form of Taka, “I also think the same, Mori-chan—,”

“But—,”

“The live is important to us,” he then smiled, you know, the kind of smiled that will free the world from all of the pollution and shits, “But you’re _more_ important, ne?”

...

...

Three pairs of eyes went staring at the bassist. Ryota kept a cool, smiling face while enduring the looks of _disbelief_ on his senpais’ faces but when a full minute passed and no one— _NOT EVEN ONE_ —made any effort to say anything, his face instantly went red like a ripe tomato.

“Say something, _mou_!” he said diving his blushing face onto his palms, “That was very _embarrassing_ , dammit!”

...

Toru cleared his throat and turned towards the snivelling vocalist, leaving Ryota to die in mortification or something. Even if it’s really quite embarrassing— _and for that, I commend you Ryota for trying to comfort Taka with your flowery voice_ —he felt the same. This live may be a huge stepping point for their band, but they couldn’t do it without their _precious_ vocalist.

_But I won’t let this opportunity pass by just like that._

He glanced at Taka with the most serious face he can muster.

_If we’re going down, we’re going down fighting._

“We would get you to the hospital,” he said with a clear voice making Taka looked up at him with a complete look of _hurt and betrayal_ on his tear-streaked face. But even before he can open those full lips to disagree, Toru had already cut him off with a soft glare, “then we’re going back here before our time to perform—,” he can heard Ryota and Alex-senpai’s gasped at that, “you’ll love that, yeah?”

“H-hai but—,” Taka glanced at his foot helplessly, like he’s already given up on his situation. That made Toru’s blood sizzled with irritation as he roughly grab the older’s shoulders—

“Agh! That hurts—,”

“Do you want to perform in this live, Taka?” he asked, fiery orbs searching for his almond-shaped eyes, “or do you want to whimper like a loser just because you dumbly injured yourself, huh?”

“It _fucking hurts_ for your fucking information!” Taka retorted before looking down on his bleeding foot, and spoke with a low, soft voice—so shaky, so _fragile_ that Toru can feel his heart clenching painfully beneath his chest—, “it hurts _...it hurts_ but I... I really, _really_ want to perform today!” he announced, earning a collective sigh of relief from everyone, “Your parents are even coming to see you, right? We...I don’t want them to see us fail first hand, today so...” he trailed off.

Toru nodded, “Good. Let’s get you to the hospital, ne? Then we’ll be back as soon as possible,” he said and then turned to Alex-senpai, “Please wait here. Taka’s acquaintance drummer will be arriving shortly. Inform him of the situation and our set list, ne? I’m counting on you, Alex-senpai. Ryota.”

“Leave it to me.”

“Hai, Toru-nii.”

“Okay,” he then turned his glanced down to the vocalist who’s getting paler the more that he looked on his wound, “Let’s go?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka and Toru _barely_ made it before their time to perform.

They rode a taxi—with Toru paying _almost double_ the fare to make sure that they will make it into the hospital as quickly as possible. He discovered that Taka was indeed scared of pain, as he clung to Toru as if he’s life depended on it the entire time that the medical staffs are attending to his wound.

“ _Itai_!” Taka hissed when the nurse put some antibacterial shits to cleanse his wound, “ _Itetetetete_ —,”

“ _Mou!_ ” Toru growled, wincing when Taka’s nails dug onto the skin of his forearm, “Shut the fuck up, Taka—,”

“Let’s pull out your toe nail and let’s see if you’re not gonna _wail like a bitch_ , Toru-sa— _ouch! Ouch! Ouch_!”

After that and some prescription of cleansing medicine, they road another taxi—this time, Taka felt the need to be a responsible adult so he paid _triple_ the fare, making the taxi zoom like a light beam on the road.

When they arrived on the venue, it was already packed. Alex-senpai and Ryota (along with the support member) greeted them the biggest, relieved grin on their faces—their instruments already strapped on their shoulders because apparently, they’re about to damn start for about— _a minute later_.

And so their first memorable live went by.

The band and the drummer’s skill wasn’t that synchronized but that’s still acceptable since they’re not really that familiar with each other to begin with. The bass was heard, the guitars were on their best (yet) tune and Taka’s voice is as powerful and as melodious as ever. Even after Toru’s warning before they went up the stage, Taka still walked over the stage— _from corner to corner as he sang_ —even though his feet hurts like fucking hell. He’s sweating as if he just ran a 100-KM marathon but that doesn’t wiped the huge grin on his face as his eyes scanned the crowd.

They might not have come for ONE OK ROCK—but it’s _enough_. Singing in front of this unfamiliar crowd—cheering and chanting and jumping on their feet out in the open air—is _enough_. They’re gonna take small steps— _small yet powerful steps_ —towards their dream to perform in the world stage.

_Yabai..._

Taka smiled, bowing deep towards the crowd, with the other members standing and also bowing on his either side.

_...this felt really, really good_ , he thought as he took a last glance at the crowd, at the stage, at the horizon beyond, _I’ll definitely not gonna be contented with just this. We’re gonna go higher, farther. We’re gonna perform in a much, much larger crowd—with the entire guest chanting and singing our song!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You’re all still not allowed to drink,” Sensei said as he handed each member a glass of orange juice, “So we’ll have to settle with this. _Kampai_!”

“ _Kampai!_ ” the four cheered, raising their own glass in the air before gulping them down hungrily.

They’re currently in the backstage, along with the other performers and though Taka really want nothing but to go home and rest, he guessed that he can’t just disappear in this important event of their lives. So he stayed.

Even if he had to lean on Toru’s frame the _entire time_ because his foot still hurts like a bitch.

_Priorities, priorities._

“Thank you for coming today, sensei,” Taka said as he held his glass with both of his hands, “You really saved us!”

“What are you saying?” the drummer laughingly asked, “Your band is _already_ good on its own. You saved yourselves up there!”

“Ah, don’t say that,” Taka said, grinning from ear to ear, “It’s so embarrassing!”

“It’s true.” The teacher then assumed a more serious voice, “I believe that you’ll only get better and better as time goes by. Just believe in yourselves, yeah?”

_That was always easier said than done, sensei._

“Hai!” they answered in unison, nonetheless, “Arigato, sensei!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After the event, they finally made their way towards the exit where they’re supposed to meet with everyone’s family. Well, Ryota and Alex made their way quite quickly while Taka and Toru had to walk slowly, in consideration for the injured vocalist.

“Just fucking leave me here, Toru-san,” Taka hissed as they saw the other two greeting unfamiliar people near the exit. _They must be their family_ , Taka thought bitterly, _and they’re supposed to be having fun tonight, not worrying over someone as pathetic as me._

“What the fuck is it _now_ , Taka?” Toru-san also hissed as he practically dragged Taka’s body towards the small crowd, “You _agreed_ on meeting them, _remember_?”

“That’s before my toe nail got ripped off!”

“And whose fault is that, huh?” Toru-san pointed out— _UGH, I really hate it when this gachapin made some legit point_ —before speaking in a low, hushed tone, “See, my family is _looking_ at us now. Just pretend that you’re _ecstatic_ to meet them and after we ate, we’ll go straight home, ne?”

Taka’s eyes snapped towards the couple who’s staring at them with worried eyes. He gulped and instantly straightened up, attempting to look as _presentable_ as possible. These are Toru-san’s parents after all.

_WHAT._

Why is he having this weird need to present himself as a productive part of the society?! _It’s not like I even care about their first impressions, right?!_

Wrong.

Because Taka’s traitorous body parts immediately started betraying his thoughts. His eyes glinted with glee while his lips formed a boyish, angelic smile as they walked towards the couple. It’s like he’s basically _wooing_ them with just his features and boyish charms.

_Better get this shit done as soon as possible, ne?_

With that, he’s actually prepared to launch himself and greet the couple with a hug and the biggest smile he can muster if not for the hand that _tighten_ its hold onto his shoulder. He froze— _flinching at the dead cold aura that’s practically oozing from the guitarist beside him_ —and dared to look up at the younger teen’s face.

“Why are you smiling like _that_?” Toru-san asked when they’re just a few feet away from his parents.

“Like _what_?”

“Like you’re trying to _flirt_ with my parents?”

“WHAT—,”

“It’s been a while, eh, Toru?”

Taka almost— _almost_ because he don’t really want to embarrass himself further—jumped in surprise when Toru-san’s father suddenly spoke. The guitarist let go of his frame to greet his parents with a hug and Taka watched it all. He noticed that his father looks strikingly similar to Toru and his older brother in some ways. His mother is soft-spoken, both of their accent heavily laced with that of Kansai dialect.

“Hai,” he nodded before stepping back beside the vocalist, “Gomen, we’ve been busy these, ah, days, so...” he shrugged.

“Mou,” his mother said, “your brother’s getting worried about yah, telling us that you rarely hang out with him anymore?”

“Well, he’s also busy with his fiancé, eh?” Toru bluntly retorted.

_Hmmm... I can smell some jealousy here_. Taka raised a fist to cover the grin that was slowly forming on his lips, _are you sad that your onii-chan is not paying attention to you anymore, Toru-chan~?_

_I’ll ask him that later_ , he decided.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your friends, Toru?” his father asked which made Taka stood up straight like a _pole_. Toru nodded before gesturing towards Alex who’s busy laughing with a younger girl. Taka’s eyes instantly went over her—long hair, _Americanish_ features and sailor uniform—

_Hmmm... I wonder if Alex would kill me if I ask for her number..._

“That’s Alex-senpai,” the half-American turned towards them upon hearing his name and flashed a _‘toothpaste-commercial-worthy_ ’ smile, “He’s our lead guitarist. He just look like that—,”

“Eh?! What do you mean by that, Toru—,”

“—but his guitar skills are pretty sick,” Toru nodded, ignoring the oldest’s protests behind him, “that’s Ryota—,” he jerked a thumb towards the bassist who immediately perked up at the thought of being introduced, “—but you already know him so let’s move onto the next one.”

“That’s harsh, Toru-nii!” Ryota cried in the background, earning a set of laughter from their parents.

“And this,” Toru-san said as he gathered Taka’s _hand into his own_ —making Alex whistled as he pointedly stare at their _linked_ hands.

Taka is also somewhat surprised at the sudden contact with the guitarist—but it’s just probably Toru-san acting like the diligent band leader he is. He probably realized that Taka is somewhat getting nervous and awkward in front of the unfamiliar faces surrounding him so he held his hand _just to calm him_.

_Yeah, it’s probably just because of that._

_Right._

But it doesn’t mean that Taka wouldn’t _enjoy_ the contact—the warm and much-larger hand enveloping his smaller one. Toru-san’s rough, calloused hands slightly squeezed Taka’s soft, feminine hand—as if he’s reassuring the vocalist that everything’s gonna be fine.

_Hmph!_ Taka inwardly snorted, _as if I need a fucking reassurance in the first place!_

“This is our vocalist, the one I’m telling you on the mails?” he said, making Taka snapped his head towards the vocalist.

_He’s telling stories about me to his parents?!_

Toru-san should’ve made sure that they’re all _good stories_ about him or else, _I’ll slap the ever-loving shits out of him later when we go home._

“He sings pretty well, right?” Toru-san added while Taka is feeling his cheeks heating up in an alarming late— _WAIT, WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN BLUSHING FOR_ —, “and he also cooks good meals, right, guys?”

“Hai, Uncle!” Ryota piped in, “Mori-chan can cook really, _really_ delicious food!”

His mother let out an offended gasp at that, “Even better than my cooking?!” she said, feigning hurt in her voice.

_Ah... that’s Ryota's mother who bought his bass guitar for him, huh?_

“Eh?!” Ryota looked like he’s been torn between a cliff and boulder, “That’s not what I mean!”

_Oh Ryota, you and your stupid mouth..._

“Anyway,” Ryota’s mother then turn towards Taka and smiled gratefully, “I’ve heard stories about you, eh to, Mori-chan was it?”

“Morita—,” Taka said at the same time that Toru-san softly  said, “Moriuchi—,”

Taka subtly _glared_ at the guitarist, hoping that no one had heard that small slip before smiling a blindingly bright smile to Ryota’s mother, “It’s Morita Takahiro, ma’am,” he said, “Ryota and Alex we’re the only who’s calling me Mori-chan..”

“Ah, Mori-chan then,” she said, making Taka inwardly wince, “Ryota would often mail us in the middle of the night telling us how good you are at singing and cooking—,”

“WHAT—Mom! It’s supposed to be our secret—,”

_Secret?_

Taka smiled a bit too widely at Ryota, which made the youngest instantly shut up with the fear for his life.

_How about we talk about those secrets later, huh, Ryota?_

“—and I’m grateful that my son had met someone like you. His sister had somewhat coddled Ryota a bit too much so we’re worried about him making friends here in Tokyo, and I’m glad,” she said, smiling at Taka, “I’m glad that you’re taking care of him, Mori-chan.”

Taka felt his throat clenched at that. That smile greatly reminds him of his mother—his loving, gentle and ever-so caring mother—and it _hurts_. It somewhat hurts to remember that he’s alone at the moment. Even if he’s surrounded by these caring and wonderful people, he’ll never be truly a part of their family.

_Because you abandoned yours_ , his mind bitterly supplied.

But even if he’s starting to feel shit and all, he still smiled at the woman, “ _Ie, ie_. It’s really nothing...” he awkwardly said and decided that it’ll be nice if he can say something good about their son, “I’m also glad that I met Ryota. He’s quite shy around strangers but he’s kind and somewhat pure and can really achieve his goals if he would just put his mind into it...” he trailed off.

“That’s really cute of you,” she said and glanced won on her watch, “We’ll be fetching his sister from work, would you want to eat with us, Mori-chan?”

Taka instantly perked up at the mention of food—but then, he remembered that he unconsciously made a promise to Toru-san so he just politely declined. Ryota apologized for his mother’s tactfulness before leaving with his family. Alex also introduced her sister— _with the mentioned sister thanking Taka for taking care of her idiotic and childish older brother_ —and Taka was more than glad to shake her hand (and even ask for her number because she’s cute and all) but Toru-san had _practically_ pulled him back through their ( _still_ )— _Mou, when are you gonna let go of my hand you asshole_ —linked hands.

When Alex and her cute little sister went on their way, Toru-san’s father then faced them with a huge smile on his face, “Jaa, let’s go grab a bite first before we also go our way home to Osaka, yeah?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That’s how they ended up in a Chinese Restaurant—because apparently, the Yamashita family loves Chinese-style food with _great passion_ —downtown. Taka and Toru sat side by side while the guitarist’s parents are sitting across them.

Taka knows that there’s really nothing to be scared about— _damn, we’re only gonna eat here, right?_ —but it just feels so weird sitting here, facing Toru-san’s parents as if he’s a _girlfriend_ that would need their _blessings_ or someshit.

“I’ve heard that you injured yourself before the performance,” Toru-san’s—or _Obaa-chan_ , as she had urged him to call her earlier—mother said after placing their orders, “Are you alright, now?”

“Ah, hai!” he said as he put the menu onto the table, “I was running around and tripped on my own. My toe nail came off but it’s already been taken care of.”

“But you didn’t look like you’re enduring something painful while you’re performing on stage,” Ojii-san said thoughtfully, “You really did a good job there, Takahiro-san.”

_Thank-fucking-god that no one’s gonna call me Mori-chan anymore!_

“Hai. Thank you,” he nodded as his cheeks decided to blush on their own again, “But it’s really just because of adrenaline. I’ll definitely roll around in pain once it wear off later, ahahaha,” he said, noticing that Toru-san had also laid his menu down and is now calmly sipping his orange juice.

“So...Takahiro-san,” Ojii-san asked, glancing at Taka as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle, “What year are you in _middle school_ this year?”

Toru-san’s juice splattered onto their pristine white table at that before he _earnestly coughed_ as if his intestines were _screaming to get out_ of his mouth.

“ _WHAT THE FUCK_ —,” is Taka’s elaborate response. His hands instantly flew on his mouth as he nervously glanced at the couple who’s busy fussing over their baby boy.

“Damn Toru,” ojii-san said, “What the hell?”

“Are you alright, Toru?” obaa-chan asked in worry.

“H-hai,” Toru-san answered as he wiped the table with a tissue, “Gomen. I just didn’t expected your question...”

“We’re not asking _you_ though.”

“Hai. Gomen.”

“So,” the couple turned to Taka, their voices back to normal as if their son didn’t just coughed out a glass of orange juice, “What was it, Takahiro-san?”

“ _Eh to_...” he said, glancing at the guitarist— _I can see you smirking, Toru-san_ —“ _Ano nee_ , despite popular belief, I’m already 18 so...”

“Uso!”

“It’s true!” he insisted, somewhat flattered that this couple had just thought that he’s still a pre-teen due to his, _you know_ , youthful looks, “I was a senior high school student when Toru-san _forced_ me—,”

Obaa-chan’s eyebrow arched at that, “... _forced_...?”

“—persuaded!” Taka instantly backtracked, realizing that his parents probably know shit about Toru-san’s tendency to _stalk and pressure someone_ , “I was already in my third year when Toru-san _persuaded_ me to join the band!”

“Such young-looking lad, huh...” Obaa-chan thoughtfully said as her eyes roamed around Taka’s flushed face, “Your parents must be also good-looking since you got their genes, ne?”

Toru-san made a strangled sound at that.

Taka kicked him on the _shin_ at that.

“ _Ouch—_!” Toru-san stopped his grumbling midsentence when his parents gave him a pair of odd looks, “Eh to...”

“Are you alright, Toru?”

Taka smirked at that, _serves you right_ , asshole.

“H-hai...” the guitarist solemnly nodded before _subtly_ glaring at the vocalist sitting beside him.

“They are,” Taka agreed, a small, tight smile plastered on his cheeks. He never really liked talking about his family so he really, _really_ wish that this weird session of questioning him would fucking end already. He also really, really want to beat the shit out of Toru-san’s pretty face for dragging him into this awkward situation, “And you’re also a pair of good-looking couple. I can already see where Toru-san got _his good-looks_ from,” he said, allowing a mischievous smile to form on his lips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru almost choke at nothing when he heard Taka’s attempt to _flatter_ his parents.

_Did he just admit, again, that I’m good-looking?!_

Now, he’s starting to feel like there’s some— _no, probably a gazillion_ —of _bugs_ fluttering in his stomach. Or were those _butterflies?_ Whatever.

Point is, he really _really_ wanted to throw up. Preferably on the table in front of him.

“Ah,” his dad sighed abashedly, “You know your way with words huh? I bet you have a lot of girls on your trail, ne, Takahiro-kun?”

_Why did you switched from Takahiro-san to Takahiro-kun, oyajii?!_

“Eh...” Taka straightened up at that, he leaned forward and cradled his chin as he smiled almost like he’s _sharing a huge secret to his father_ , “I’ve got a _fair share_ of them when I was younger—,”

_How long have you been into girls, you flirty shit?!_

“—but I’m not really interested at those things _right now_ ,” Toru let out a sigh of relief at that— _WAIT, WHAT AM I FEELING RELIEVED FOR?!_ —, “However, Toru-san here is quite the opposite—,”

“WHAT.”

“ _Ano nee_ ,” Taka said in his annoyingly pretty voice, “He’s quite a lady charmer. Every day, he get some love letters from his school mates—,”

“Lies!” Toru cried in denial even if it’s _totally_ true.

“Uso-janai!” Taka retaliated, a huge grin plastered on his face, “Ryota-kun told me a while ago that even if his Toru-nii—,” Toru felt himself _shiver_ when Taka called him with the honorific Ryota has always been using, “—looks like he’s a cold, scary bastard, he still gets some confessions and letters from the girls in your school!”

_Damn. You’re gonna be so dead, Ryota._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Somewhere in the other side of Tokyo.

“ _A-choo_!” Ryota sniffled before looking up at his older sister, who’s eyeing him with worry.

“Are you having a cold, Ryo-kun?”

“Eh?” he tilted his head, feeling cold all of the sudden. It’s not like he’s going down with a flue but feels more like someone is plotting his murder or some horrible acts about him, “I don’t think so, nee-chan...”

“Right,” his nee-chan agreed before looking down on the menu, “ _Idiots_ can’t catch a cold, anyways.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ah,” Toru’s mother— _much to his horror_ —nodded in agreement, “That’s true. Even in kindergarten, Toru here was so famous—,”

“Okaa!” Toru tried to protest and stop his mom from _spilling out his childhood secrets_ but no—he realized that family members are meant to _embarrass you to death_ —like, right now.

“—he’s the most famous kid back in his grade.”

“Gah!” Toru just wanted to crawl under a rock and die out of mortification—especially when Taka gave him a long side-glance, smirking tauntingly up at him.

“ _Did he now_...” he slowly said while staring at Toru’s definitely flustered face.

“Hai. He’s quite the silent type of boy back then, acting like an adult and stuff. Girls like those men right—,”

“I’m only in preschool back then, Okaa!”

“—cold, mysterious men...” his mother continued, conveniently ignoring Toru’s demise while Toru and his father just eyed the woman in slight _...disgust._

“Sure Honey,” his father said afterwards, “Sure.”

Toru thought that the attention would be finally lifted off him and he was about to slump back on his seat but his mother was clearly not done yet.

“I was really worried that he would have difficulty in making friends,” she solemnly said making Toru roughly exhaled. He childishly pouted and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest before looking away from his parents ( _and Taka’s gleeful eyes, as well_ ), “But when he’s in elementary, he started making friends easily. He met Ryota and they went to Tokyo to form a dance band about what was it again?”

“...hip-hop...” Toru mumbled.

“Hai, that’s it. They’re dancing in Shibuya and Shinjuku, right Toru?”

“...hai...”

Toru can see Taka’s eyes widening as he absorbed that revelation. The vocalist knows that he’s bee with Amuse since elementary but he probably don’t have any idea on his previous job in the agency, right?

“Toru-san can _dance_?!” Taka said as he casted a look of betrayal on the guitarist— _WHAT DID I DO NOW_ —before turning towards his mother again, “I’m not aware of that! So that’s why Ryota can roll and flip around, huh? Does that mean that Toru-san can do that, too?”

“Not anymore,” he quickly said before his mother could ask for a sample of his skills, “I just...outgrown that _phase_ of my life.”

Taka threw him a nasty, unconvinced look, “That’s lame. I would _love_ to see you dancing around, Toru-san~!”

Toru smiled back at the vocalist.

_And I would love it if you would just shut that pretty lips of yours, Takahiro._

“Don’t forget the time when he acted—,”

“Oyajii!” Toru screeched at that.

“What?”

“Yeah, Toru-san,” Taka said, “What the _fu_ — _hel_ — ** _heck_** are you fussing about?”

Toru could’ve laugh when Taka attempted to _censor_ his flowery vocabulary on front of his parents, but sadly, he can’t _BECAUSE HIS PARENTS ARE SO INTENT ON MAKING HIM DIE OUT OF PURE EMBARASSMENT IN FORNT OF THE VOCALIST, DAMMIT!_

“Ah!” her mother exclaimed making Toru winced and pray for the ground to open up and swallow his miserable self, “In Shibuya15, right?”

That obviously picked he vocalist’s interest because Taka leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement, “Shibuya15? I’ve been hearing that from Ryota for a while now but Toru-san doesn’t really give me a decent answer on what it is..?”

_Because you don’t have to know it, dammit!_

“Toru can be really, _really_ shy about his work,” his father said, “He acted like a high, Yankee on Shibuya15, right, Toru?”

_Ah, fuck my already fucked life!_

“...hai...”

“That role perfectly suits him ahahahahaha!” Taka suddenly burst in laughter, making three pair of eyes oddly look at him. There’s really nothing funny about what his father just said, but Taka is probably thinking that the role suits him since he thought that Toru is a Yankee-kun since the first time they’ve met, right?

“I must _ahahahahaha_ see this show—,”

“No, you wouldn’t!”

“I’ll send you a clip of it—,”

“No, oyaajii!”

“Tha— _ahahahahahaha_ —anks!!!” and then, the three of them laughed—as if they’ve known each other for a long time—while Toru sulked moodily in a corner.

“Now that you’re done humiliating me,” he said when he saw the waiter carrying their food exit the kitchen, “can we finally eat in peace?”

“Sure, _Yankee-Toru-san_ ,” Taka said, smiling a bit too _sweetly_ up at him that made Toru want to punch his cute little face even more, “Sure.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After the sumptuous meal they’ve shared— _and a few more embarrassing stories about Toru-san’s childhood_ —they’ve concluded their meal through drinking their own preferred tea. Toru-san had left to pay the bills. Taka had insisted to pay half of it but Toru-san wouldn’t have any of that and after a few moments of intense glaring, Taka reluctantly relented.

_I mean, if he wants to spend his cash so bad, then so be it._

So!

He’s now left with the couple, his eyes casted on the green tea on his cup. Now that Toru-san is away, he find the situation quite awkward since he doesn’t really have anything to say to his parents.

“ _Ano saa_ ,” his head snapped up when obaa-chan suddenly spoke with that soft voice of hers, “Takahiro-kun?”

“Hai?”

“Even if he doesn’t tell us anything, we know that he felt down when their dance group was dissolved a year ago. We thought that he’ll go further down in depression and feared that he’ll start to act different from the Toru we’ve raised, but...” she then looked directly on Taka’s eyes.

“We’re really glad that you’ve been taking care of our Toru since you joined the band...” she said, making Taka _gape like a fish_ , “When he called us last year to tell us that he met some awesome vocalist, he was really, _really_ happy. Especially when you decided to join. I know that Toru can be quite _pushy_ and perfectionist regarding the thing he love—in your case—the music so please bear with him, ne?”

Taka blinked at that.

_Bear with him?_

_Bear with Toru-san?_

He let out a hollow laugh at that, “ _Ie, ie_ ,” he shook his head, “I think we’re having a misunderstanding here, obaa-chan. It’s not _me_ who’s taking care of Toru-san, it was him who’s been taking care of me. He’s the one who _saved_ me from the monotonous life I’ve been living last year and he was the one who’s constantly bearing with all of my faults, so I...” he smiled, a small, sad smile painting his lips as he glanced down, “I’m _really glad_ that I’ve met your son.”

And to the couple’s surprise, Taka bowed his head deeply— _so deep that his forehead almost it the edge of the table._

“Takahiro-kun—,”

“Thank you for _bringing Toru-san in this world_ ,” he said in the most serious, most _sincere_ voice he can muster as he kept that position, “I’ll probably be _dead_ right now if Toru-san hadn’t come into my life, so for that, I thank you from the _bottom of my heart_!”

A long silence ensued.

Taka doesn’t mind if he looks _ridiculous_ , bowing to some random couple inside that restaurant but he couldn’t care less. Toru-san had saved him a year ago and he wouldn’t be _tired_ of saying that again and again. He was lost _, alone in the dark,_ when Toru forced him out of his black and white world. Toru-san had _guided_ him, pushed him _forward_ , and urged him to be a _better_ person as days go by— _and this_ —this show of respect and gratitude he’s doing is just a _tiny thing_ compared to what the guitarist had done for him.

Taka just moved his head up when he felt a hand patting his hair. He was met with the approving look of Toru-san’s father and obaa-chan’s glassy eyes.

“You really are a _pair of weird lads_ ,” ojii-san said as he patted his hair, “Take good care of _each other_ , yeah?”

“H-hai!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“What are you talking about earlier?” Toru asked while they’re on the taxi way back to Taka’s unit.

Taka was humming a song, his eyes watching as the cityscape passed in a blur, looking quite content and happy. Perhaps it was the _live_ , perhaps it was the _dinner_ —but whatever that is, Taka really _looks good_ like that.

“Nothing,” he answered after a short while before leaning against Toru’s shoulder, “I’m tired and sleepy. And my feet hurts. Just carry me up when we’re there, ne?”

“No,” Toru-san instantly answered and yet his left hand snaked around Taka’s waist to pull him closer and make him more _comfortable_ , “I’ll throw you from the second floor once we get there.”

Taka closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the warmth that’s practically enveloping his upper body— _not caring if they looks like a complete homo-couple like that_ —before mumbling a soft, “Sure, Toru-san. Sure.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Despite threatening that he will fling Taka’s unconscious body from the second floor of the apartment building, Taka still woke up on his bed— _properly tucked within layers of blankets_ —the next day. He smiled, blinking up at the bare, white ceiling—hoping that everything would turn out _fine_ this time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT'S WITH THIS CRINGE-WORTHY ENDING?! (finally, we're getting somewhere you damn toruka)
> 
> -Taka getting his big toe nail ripped off at the Mujinto Fes was legit. He went to the hospital and returned just before their turn to perform.  
> -Toru-san is obviously the most popular kid in his grade when he's younger XD  
> -Alex-senpai have a sister, though I'm not sure if she's older or younger than him.  
> -The sensei I've mentioned here would be somewhat important in the later chapters. Since he's teaching in the music academy where a certain someone would be coming from. But he's not really with the four during their performance.
> 
> Ah, Toru-san, you and your perverted mind should prioritize Taka's wellbeing rather than getting off his cute, crying face XD
> 
> Thank you for reading~! I would really appreaciate your comments and/or suggestions~!


	30. ET CETERA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sick.
> 
> "Why? Why? I hate this, hate it, hate it  
> I want more of that warmth from a moment ago  
> I can’t believe it, I can’t understand why"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, fucking finally.
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> Ah, How I wish that OOR is mine~

Everything was happening so fast for Toru that he _literally_ had to lie down—and _rest_.

The band will be releasing their second EP days from now and all the live performances they’ve done in various live houses around Tokyo, plus their constant rehearsal at the _ungodly hour_ of one o’ clock in the morning is taking a huge toll on his body.

Add that to the chilling December air, and _he’s out with a flu_.

He groggily opened his eyes, only to shut them immediately upon being greeted by the harsh light from his ceiling.

_What time is it?_

He slowly rolled around his bed to face the digital clock on his desk. It’s only 8 o’clock in the morning but he’s already feeling like hell.

He couldn’t go to the practice tonight looking like a _zombie_ and feeling like someone is scratching his throat with sharp nails. If he’s really having a flu, then there’s a high chance that Taka might get it—and that’s what he’s _scared_ about.

He’s scared that the vocalist will lose his pretty, _pretty_ voice when he gets Toru’s flu.

A band without a vocalist is practically a _useless one_ , so yeah; he should just tell the older teen that he wouldn’t make it.

_Or else, he’ll bitch it all out to me later._

He sighed, memories of being in a hospital just a year ago flooding his mind. A year had already passed since he formed the band, since Ryota came up with a _ridiculous_ idea of having a _small singing contest_ to choose their vocalist, which ultimately led to Toru’s _demise_. A year had already passed, many things had happened, and he thought that he’s actually doing a good job on keeping his body healthy—

_I guess I’m doing a pretty bad job at it huh..._

He stopped two of his part time jobs since they’ve started to have salaries from their agency. There’s only one remaining and he also plans to leave it after his graduation this March.

_I need to move out of this dorm soon, too, huh..._

He looked around; the entire place covered with Avril’s smiling face, books and CD cases lying around on practically everywhere.

This place holds too much _memories_ for Toru. This is where he made the _decision_ to form a band after all. This place is where it all _began_ —

He snorted, clearly getting annoyed by his own train of thoughts. Being alone while sick is probably not the best idea, and while he’s craving for _Taka’s miso-soup_ , he can’t really just command the vocalist to pop in here with a pot of hot, steaming soup.

_Ah, too bad..._

_Maybe I should just sleep?_

He groaned and was about to shut his eyes when someone knocked on his door. Toru felt a sense of déjà vu because, _isn’t this the same scenario wherein Ryota barged into my hospital room a year ago?!_

He ignored the knocking, thinking that it was his childhood friend who’s banging on the door as if there’s no tomorrow. But when a full minute passed and the rapping continues, Toru decided that it’s fucking _high time_ to stop Ryota.

_And by stop Ryota, I mean, giving him a good beating of his life._

He begrudgingly dragged his body towards the door, pulled it open and was about to _scream his head off_ when he realized that it wasn’t their bassist who’s _harassing_ his door but—

“Uh... Do I know you?” he said, looking down on the smaller teen.

The teen, as Toru had observed, is probably about his age. He’s wearing a large sweater that was so big that it almost swallows the teen’s lithe form. His hair is slightly dyed brown and his eyes are big and shiny and—

_He looked like a fucking girl._

_Wait, he’s a boy, right?!_

Toru take another look at the slightly bouncing figure in front of his door. _Right?!_

“ _A-ano, konnichiwa_!” said teen said, tightly holding a CD case and a marker on his nimble hands, “I’ve been in some of your lives! And I’m a fan since I’ve heard you perform in a school festival! Your vocalist is really, _really_ good! Can I have your autograph?!” he quickly said, practically shrieked in front of the guitarist.

Toru idly wondered on how the teen managed to enter their dormitory building. It was only meant for Amuse talent, so this man is probably also one of the numerous teens scouted by the agency. _If that’s so, then how come that I haven’t met him before?_

But what probably shocked Toru was the fact that this man had listened to their performance, and judging by the familiar cover of the case he’s holding, he even bought their first EP!

_Whoah_.

He had to lean on the door frame to steady his wobbly legs.

They’re getting _famous_.

They’re having more people who actually l _isten_ — _who actually like their music!_

The teen looked up at him worriedly, “Are you alright? Did I, perhaps, come in a bad time?”

Toru blinked in an attempt to clear his blurry vision. He shook his head in denial before flashing a friendly smile to the other male, “No, not at all. Anyway, thank you for coming to our performances. We’re really grateful for people like you...”

The teen’s face instantly brightened up at that, “Hai! It was a pleasure hearing your music! Actually I want to get an autograph of you and uh...your _vocalist_?”

Toru found it weird that the teen is so _obviously_ set on Taka. Perhaps because the vocalist is their frontman?

“Uh... I can give you mine, though _I don’t know why you would even want that_ , but Taka is...” he trailed off, wincing when he realized that it would probably disappoint the teen. However, the said teenager just widened his eyes in pure awe at Toru, before hugging the CD case tightly on his chest.

“Taka? Is that his name...?”

“Uhm,” Toru hesitantly nodded, “Yeah. He’s our vocalist, Morita Takahiro.”

Toru watched as the teen’s eyes glazed before him, as if he just won the _lottery_ or something. He spent an entire minute standing there, frozen on his spot, staring at nothing in particular while Toru is swaying on his foot and ready to fall down any moment.

“Uh...” he awkwardly cleared his throat, “Should I sign the CD or...?”

That snapped the teen out of his reverie, “Oh! _Gomen_ , here!” he said, gently shoving the case to the guitarist. Toru accepted it and the marker, and decided that he should at least try to strike a casual conversation with this person— _however weird he might be_.

“What was your name again? You’re also with Amuse, right?” he asked as he uncapped the marker, silently hoping that his guess is _right_ , or else, he’ll die of _mortification_. To his immense relief, the teen nodded, watching him like a hawk.

“Hai. I’ve been here for months,” he said, suddenly in a clear, masculine voice, “I’m Satoh Takeru, by the way.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takeru watched as Toru diligently put his signature on the CD case of ONE OK ROCK’S first EP. He got extremely lucky to discover that two of the band’s members are living in the same building as him. _However..._

He subtly looked around, past the guitarist’s shoulders and into the unit; his eyes searching for a certain _someone_.  He thought that this guitarist and vocalist would always be together, as they were always an item during their lives in clubs downtown, that he actually thought that the vocalist would be here.

T _hat’s a shame, huh..._

He pouted, looking at the CD case that has been brought back to his hands, a single signature written on the case.

“I’m Yamashita Toru,” the rhythm guitarist said, “Nice meeting you, I guess?”

“Hai!”Takeru smiled up at him, “I’m sorry If I disturbed yo—,”

“Yamashita— _fucking_ —Toru!!!”

Both teens jumped on their feet when a familiar loud voice echoed across the corridor of the building. Takeru took a step back, noticing that the guitarist had gone _pale_ , as if he had just seen a ghost or something as equally scary.

So imagine his surprise— _and his utter delight_ —when he recognizes the man who’s stalking like a predator towards them.

“What the fuck happened to you, _you piece of shit?_!” Takeru’s eyes widened at the vocalist’s choice of rather, uh, _colourful_ words, “You’re not answering my calls you _motherfucking_ —,” he instantly shut his mouth up when he finally realized that the guitarist he’s giving the scolding of his life to is not alone “Shit! You have a _guest_?!”

Takeru watched in awe as the vocalist’s face _exploded_ with a brilliant shade of scarlet, as if all of his blood rushed up to his face. His fiery eyes suddenly went timid as he ducked down, probably _in humiliation_ , before brushing past the guitarist who’s taking all the screaming quite _professionally_.

_It was as if Yamashita-san had spent his entire life dealing with a hot-headed, screaming vocalist._

“G-gomen, I’ll let you alone, just come in when you’re done, okay?” the vocalist quickly muttered, his raspy voice a music to Takeru’s ears, “ _We’re not done talking you asshole_ ,” he warned before gently slamming the door shut.

Yamashita-san shook his head in exasperation before smiling apologetically at him, “Please don’t mind his temper,” he said, “he’s just loud and moody but he’s actually a shy person, especially to _strangers_...” he trailed off.

That hit Takeru to the _core_.

He doesn’t want to be a _stranger_ to the vocalist forever.

He wants to _know_ him, to be _friends_ with him, to be _close_ to him...

_To listen to his voice endlessly..._

He blinked, realizing what he’d just thought. Okay, that was definitely... _weird._..

“Uhm no! I don’t mind at all,” he said, flailing his hands, “I guess you should go inside now? Thanks for the autograph, by the way.”

Yamashita-san stared at him for a moment before nodding, “No problem. You can have Taka’s autograph next time, yeah?”

That made Takeru blinked owlishly at the guitarist, his heart fluttering at the mention of the word ‘next time’

_I can still meet them?!_

_I can still meet him?!_

“H-hai! Thank you very much!” he said, getting into a deep bow before turning around to go back to his own room. He sighed dreamily and stared on the CD case, oblivious to the signature on it.

_Morita Takahiro._

“So, his name is Morita Takahiro, _huh_...?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Toru entered his room, the vocalist is already cleaning up his mess like a _dutiful wife_. It’s been always like _this_ , whenever Taka went into his dorm room, he will always nag about the clutter and while he’s constantly complaining to Toru, he still always ended up cleaning the entire room before leaving. Since they’ve been signed with Amuse, Taka can now freely enter and leave the building without _climbing_ the Sakura trees outside.

Though _sometimes_ , Toru wish that the vocalist would still do that, so that he can see Taka’s _grumpy and snow-covered face_ when he falls off while jumping down from the tree.

He was too lost in his world of imagination that he failed to notice that the older had stopped putting his dirty clothes in a hamper and is now currently staring at him.

“You look like _shit_ , Toru-san,” he said, all blunt honesty, as usual, “Are you... _sick_?”

Toru watched as the older’s face morphed into a worried look, his eyebrows scrunching up together as if the guitarist is a puzzle to be solved. Taka’s eyes instantly glazed, as if he’s starting to inwardly panic again, just by the sight of a _slightly_ unwell bandleader.

Toru _didn’t want_ that look on the vocalist’s face.

“N-no,” his voice cracked before he coughed a few more times, his frame slightly swaying as his knees weaken without any warning— _damn you, traitorous body parts!_ —“I—I’m fine.”

…

…

_Wow_.

That was probably _the biggest and most obvious lie of the century_. Toru, himself, wants to smash his aching skull open to the nearest wall for his utter _stupidity_.

Toru inwardly winced as Taka gave him a blank, unamused, and _totally unconvinced_ look.

“ _G-gomen_ ,” he hang his head in defeat, not wanting to have more arguments with the obviously pissed vocalist, “I _think_ I have the flu…?”

Toru expected that Taka would start another _screaming war_ with him, or probably _aggressively shove_ him into the room and act _all-motherly_ again, _but no_ , Taka just blinked up at him, his features instantly softening up. The smaller teen trudged forward; his cold hand is like a soothing blanket of snow to Toru’s feverish cheeks. He unconsciously grabbed the _feminine-like_ hand with his larger one, nuzzling his face to the source of coolness.

“Then why _didn’t_ you tell me…?” Taka’s soft voice asked making Toru’s guilt bubbled up within his chest, “You really should be glad that I went here to _kick your ass_ or else, I will not have any idea if you’re still alive or what—anyways, let’s get you to bed, first, okay?”

Toru let the older to sit him onto the bed and fuss over him. Taka grabbed a wet towel from the adjacent bathroom and put it onto his burning forehead. It’s cold, but it doesn’t give the same soothing feeling that Taka’s hand had given him earlier, he thought as the vocalist diligently tucked him in.

Taka nodded after taking an approving look on his work before plopping down on the floor beside his bed, “So, do you want to eat something, Toru-san? I’ll buy it in the _kombini_ for you since you don’t have a fucking kitchen in your room, and I really don’t want to cook in the common area—,”

“Shhh, Taka, _slow down_ ,” he said, groaning as he rolled around, his back facing the vocalist as he cough            , “Your words are making my head hurts like hell…”

“Say that to my face, asshole!” the vocalist said before angrily pouncing on the bed, as he forced Toru to roll over, “Are you always this _rude_ when you’re sick?!”

_Holy fucking shit._

_Didn’t I just told him that his words are—_

“Are you always this _shitty_ when someone’s sick?!” he gruffly snapped, making the older let out an offended gasp above him, “S-sorry, it’s just—me— _argh_ ,” he said, wracking his mind to find the right words to _apologize_ , “...just get away from me.”

_Oh shit._

_That didn’t come out right._

Taka’s hands immediately let go of his clothes, as if he’s scalded by a melting iron. The vocalist blinked down at him in confusion— _and hurt, Toru’s sure of_ —before looking away, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to—,”

“N-no! _Don’t_ —I…” Toru groaned. His mind is getting fuzzier as seconds ticked by, his limbs felt heavy and his eyelids are annoyingly closing, forcing him to fall into a deep slumber, “I just don’t want you to…you know… _get sick_ …? You’re _my precious_ …vocalist…so you must stay…heal…” and then, darkness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka nervously looked down at the sleeping teenager on the bed. Toru looked peaceful, even though his brows are furrowed and his lips are partly open, _stupidly_ falling asleep in the middle of talking.

_How weird is that?_

And what’s more weird is the last sentence that he had said, just a few seconds ago.

_‘You’re my precious vocalist…’_

He means “ _our_ ”, right? Taka is the band’s vocalist, _not Toru’s_ , right?

Right. Toru-san is probably just _delirious_ from his fever or something. Taka shrugged the thought even though his mind is still somewhat unconvinced by his own deductions.

_Precious vocalist huh…_

Taka raised a fist to his mouth, desperately trying ( _and failing_ ) to hide the small, pleased _smile_ that is slowly forming on his lips. He knows that Toru-san loves saying _weird things_ that will make anyone doubt his _sexual preferences_ , but this— _this unconscious, and almost just a slip-of-the-tongue words of possessiveness_ —is Taka’s favourite, _so far_.

He’s also quite surprised that even with Toru-san’s awful condition, he still looks out for the band, _especially Taka’s health_ , like the good leader he is. However, the idiot would probably die of _martyrdom_ one of these days if he continues to shoulder all the responsibilities and stress of keeping their band going.

_I thought he’s just gonna keel over and die earlier, for fuck’s sake!_

Taka sighed, gently arranging the towel on Toru-san’s forehead, pulling the stray strands of curly and slightly longer hair from his face, before going back to his spot on the floor. He fished out his _ever-ready_ facemask from the pocket of his coat and put it on, _just to be sure_. He doesn’t want to get sick, just like the guitarist wanted, but he can’t just leave this bastard alone and _dying_.

He was so shocked when he discovered that the guitarist was actually sick earlier— _so shock that he felt his brain shut down for a moment_ —flushing all his moody arguments down the drain in an instant. Memories of his younger years flooded his mind, especially when Tomohiro got sick. It was raining that day and he just got home, drenched and all because his stupid umbrella decided to _fuck up his life_ by not functioning at all. Their parents are still not home, probably stuck in traffic. He can still remember coming home to a crying Hiroki, telling him ( _actually, Hiro just pointed towards their room while bawling like a huge cry baby and saying “oniichan” over and over again_ ) that Tomohiro is having a high fever.

Taka rushed to the younger’s room and found his younger brother sleeping on the bed, sweating yet his hands are freezing cold.

That was one of the _scariest day_ of his life, to date. He thought that he’d lost Tomo. He doesn’t want that, _even if he always bullies his younger brothers to death_ , he still greatly care for them, like any brother should.

Since then, Taka studied on how to act during those times— _which, unexpectedly came handy in this situation_ —because he don’t want to feel that  painful and frightening feeling of  almost losing _someone he holds dear._

Like Tomohiro.

_Like Toru-san._

…

…

_Wait. What the hell?!_

Why is he even thinking that way?

“Must have been tired,” Taka muttered in denial before he decided that it’s time to change Toru-san’s towel. He stood up, gently pried the wet cloth of the feverish skin, and padded towards the bathroom, silently praying for Toru-san’s _immediate_ recovery.

When he was done doing the, uh, nursing stuffs, he sat on the floor again and stared at the sleeping guitarist’s face as if it can give him the answer to all of the questions bugging his mind at the moment. Taking care of a sicke person brings back his memories together with his younger brothers, and now that he’s thinking about it, maybe he should call Toru-san’s older brother to inform him of his sibling’s condition?

But I don’t even have his number…

Besides, his brother would definitely lose his shits when he discovered that Toru-san is slowly killing himself by working like a madman and leading a band composed of rowdy teenagers.

“You’re quite lucky, ne, Toru-san?” he softly said, watching as the shadows of a passing vehicle on the road outside danced on the leader’s face, “…you have a normal family…and a caring brother while I…”

Taka’s eyes hooded as he reminisced his childhood. He pulled his knees towards his chest and hugged them as a small attempt to soothe himself—to tell himself that _everything’s gonna be alright_ , despite having a _dying Toru-san_ somewhere beside him—whenever he’s remembering their family.

He’s the oldest and yet he managed to be the most awful son of the Moriuchi household. He’s the oldest so he should act as the most responsible, most mature out of them and yet— _what did he do?_ He ran away from the problems, rebelled from his parents and ran away from home. Even so, all the attention of the media was set on him— _Moriuchi Takahiro_ , eldest son of Mori Shinichi and Mori Masako, a member of the idol group NEWS.

The people were concerned about him— _a fully-pledged teenager who can easily cope up with family problems and teenage angst_ —but how about his _little brothers_? Tomohiro and Hiroki were too young to understand what was happening but no one seems to care for their emotional well-beings. They were too young and yet they managed to grow up without the anger, without the resentment, without the anxiety that he’s constantly battling with. Tomo made it to a good school. Hiroki managed to be a good student.

How about Taka?

A typical trash bag— _if Toru-san hadn’t found_ —saved—him.

He knows that there will be people who will judge him for leaving them, for gathering the most attention despite being the eldest and a piece of shit who can’t be helped anymore—but what can he do? It’s not like he wants it—begs for it, right? He just want to see them again, be a better (because I’m damn sure that I will not be the best) older brother for them—is that too much too ask?

_Maybe this is why Father doesn’t want us to get into the entertainment industry…_

Taka sighed and cradled his head over his knees.

_People will fucking judge you no matter what you do, huh..?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I’ve read somewhere, probably on the translation of Satoh Takeru’s Alternative Photobook, that even before he became friends with Taka, he’s already been in speaking terms with Toru and Ryota since they’re all living in the Amuse Dormitory. I’ve decided to start that shit here, you know, just in case that Takeru would have a big role in the future or something. Like some third-party or what. What do you think?
> 
> -Tomohiro getting sick is totally fictitious. As well as Toru but a fanfic like this wouldn’t be complete without a getting-sick episode, ne?
> 
> -Taka is also probably getting hints about Toru-san’s feelings? BECAUSE IT’S ALREADY FUCKING OBVIOUS THAT LEADER-SAMA IS FALLING FOR OUR DEAR VOCALIST! Why won’t you fuck already, mou!
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for always reading~! Comments and suggestions are always appreciated!


	31. All Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> Unconscious confessions and jealousies~
> 
>  
> 
> "Falling with you  
> Only you  
> Always you  
> You’re so beautiful to  
> me It’s true  
> Amazed by you  
> I know I’m falling"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .IM ALIIIIIIIVE~!
> 
> This chaprer is long overdue. I am so sorry for the late upload :(
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR has never been mine.

Takahiro had just messaged everyone that there will be no rehearsal for tonight since their band leader is currently _bedridden_ and basically _useless_ due to flu. Ryota came rushing a few minutes ago, worried and totally clueless to the rhythm guitarist’s well-being.

“I—I’m sorry, Mori-chan, I didn’t know that Toru-nii’s going down with a flu…” Ryota said in a hushed manner as he nervously rocked on his feet. They’re currently outside the unit, to prevent their conversation from disturbing Toru’s sleep.

“ _Da-ka-ra_ ,” Taka said, in a scolding yet still soft manner— _much like how a mother would scold her precious child_ —, “no, one’s blaming you, Ryota. It’s the idiot’s fault for not taking of himself properly.”

“B-but—,”

“ _Mou_! Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” he snapped, even though he’s not sure himself, “Just… let’s just go with our plans, alright? His _birthday_ is coming up so…” he trailed off, praying that the young bassist can get his message.

Ryota’s face visibly brightened up at the mention of the word “ _birthday_.”

“Oh, right! Toru-nii’s birthday is just a few days from now!”

Taka nodded, inwardly thanking his awesome diverting skills for successfully averting Ryota’s thoughts from the sick band leader, “Hai. So, think of your gift for him, ne? And get another one, you know,” a mischievous grin formed on his lips, “for our _plan_.”

“Right! Right!” Ryota nodded furiously, like a completely gullible child. Sometimes, Taka can’t help but think that the bassist is _too pure and naïve_ that he’ll be easily kidnapped by some gang or something. “I’ll be going back to my room, Mori-chan. I’ll just drop by tomorrow to check on Toru-nii, then?”

Taka nodded and subtly waved, watching as the youngest turned around a corner and disappears from the dark corridor. He sighed, small puffs of air escaping his lips as he made his way back into Toru-san’s room.

_His birthday’s coming up, huh…_

What should Taka give to the guitarist?

_Probably the most recent porn magazine. Or proper winter clothes so that Toru-san can finally wear something warm when winter comes, for once._

Taka snorted, his socked feet padded through the dark room, and towards the bed where the said guitarist is currently tossing in his sleep. His curly hair sticking on his sweaty face, eyes tightly closed and his chest rose in an erratic manner as if he’d just ran a marathon.

The vocalist’s brows furrowed in worry as he kneel beside the bed and was about to wipe the guitarist’s face with the damp towel, when he felt Toru-san’s feverish skin—

“Holy _fuck!_ You’re burning up!” he said in panic as he rose and went to the bathroom to wet the tissue again, “Shit, don’t die on me. _Please-don’t-die-on-me-fuck_!” he chanted as he wiped the guitarist’s face with the cold towel.

_M-maybe I should get Ryota?!_

But knowing the youngest, he’ll just probably panic _more_ than Taka already is. The two of them will surely end up running around in circles like headless chickens. And then, Toru-san will _surely die_ —

_WHAT._

“No, no, no! That can’t happen!” Taka shook his head in denial— _not caring if he looks like a totally insane person by talking to himself_ —as he pushed the hair away from Toru-san’s face, wincing with the abnormally high temperature he felt, “We haven’t even produced our debut album, you stupid, stalking piece of shit!” he hissed, eyes glazing over as he fight the tears from just, _you know_ , flowing like a goddamned _waterfall_.

_Why am I being emotional over something like this?!_

This is not the time for bawling like a _crybaby!_

Taka huffed and wiped the unshed tears with his sleeves. Maybe it’s about damn time to call an ambulance. He should’ve thought about it _sooner_. What if Toru-san dies because it’s too late— because Taka is too bust shitting around and being emotional as fuck while the guitarist is, _I don’t know_ , dying of a flu or something?

He was about to stand up when Toru-san parted his lips and mumbled some words, “ _N-nii-chan_ …?”

_What._

Taka halted his movements, his ears straining to hear what the guitarist had just muttered. It was barely above a whisper so Taka had to lean onto the bed, his smaller frame looming over the blanket-covered Toru-san.

“Toru-san?” he whispered, not sure if the guitarist is awake or he’s just imagining things, “Are you awake, Toru-san?”

To his surprise, and utter delight, the guitarist slowly opened his eyes— _albeit with difficulty_ —as if those lids were heavy as fuck. Takahiro breathed a sigh of relief when Toru-san opened his eyes, staring directly at the vocalist above him.

Then he _smiled._

No, not the smirk he usually wears whenever his pleased with himself, not the taunting grin he flashes whenever _he’s annoying the shit out of Taka_ —no—it was more of a boyish smile, as if some adult had just given a young, _young_ Toru some candy or snacks or new toys or anything that kids love.

Takahiro swallowed— _hard_ —upon seeing the bashful smile on the usually stoic face of their band leader.

“Nii-chan~!”

“Gah!”

Taka yelped indignantly when a pair of cold hands suddenly shot up from the blankets, snaking around his shoulder just to pull him down onto the sick teen’s chest.

“What the fuck—,”

“Ah, I missed you lots, Nii-chaaan,” Toru-san said— _squealed with that rough, deep voice e of his_ —as he practically squeeze the living daylights out of Taka’s poor body, “How come…we rarely..meet huh…?”

Taka flinched at that. Memories of their petty stint in the police station flooded Taka’s mind. He can recall a taller, much mature and suit-wearing Toru-san-look alike who was scolding the guitarist back then.

_What the hell?_

_Is Toru-san hallucinating?!_

_And for fuck’s sake,  do I look anything like his huge older brother?!_

Takahiro wanted to tell—no, _shout_ that to the guitarist’s face, but first, he wanted to tell Toru-san _to let me the fuck go you cuddly, stalking piece of shit!_

He tried pushing himself off Toru-san’s chest but the arms hugging him just tightened, as if mocking his inability to escape the teen’s _evil_ clutches. He _loves_ seeing their emotionless leader acting _cute and childish_ like this but his _manly_ pride couldn’t take more of this hugging and nuzzling anymore!

“Toru-sa— _mfgh_ ,” he  whined when the guitarist rolled them around so that they’re lying on their sides, with Taka’s face flushed to the younger’s heaving chest _. Is this how Toru-san acts around his brother?!_

Holy fuck!

Taka can feel himself _hyperventilating_ at their current predicament. They’re in a kinda compromising position, especially for both _straight guys_. Heck, anyone who could see them at this moment would instantly conclude that they’re _lovers_ since Toru-san is still hugging, not only his torso but his legs as well—

“Oh no, you asshole, don’t—,”

Taka groaned when Toru-san’s much, more muscular legs wrapped themselves around Taka’s _slender_ ones, very much like how an octopus would trap their prey.

_I’m gonna fucking kill you after this, you clingy bastard—_

“Nee, nee, nee, nii-chaaaan,” Toru-san’s gruffly voice snapped him out of his murderous thoughts, “I… I wanna talk about something with you…” he suddenly said in a more somber tone, which made Taka to look up at him. Toru-san’s eyes are glazed over, _as if he’s not really there_ , and his cheeks are flushed due to his fever.

“W-wait, Toru-san, I think—,”

“Nii-chan,” the teen said with a tone of finality, effectively cutting of the vocalist’s complaints, “I think I… I l _ike_ …someone…?”

Taka gulped at that—never mind the limbs _tangling with his own_ ones, never mind ruining his manly pride for being hugged by this big idiot, what matters to him right now is that—

_Matte, matte, matte!_

_Is Toru-san confessing to someone?!_

_And he’s supposed to tell this things to his brother, not me!_

Takahiro felt like he’s _betraying_ the guitarist by listening to his confessions. He felt that he’s prying into the privacy of the brothers just by listening to this shit. _Toru-san doesn’t even know that I’m here, dammit!_

_He’ll definitely kill me if he knows about this_ , Taka thought ruefully, eyes widening at the realization, _and I will surely die._

Anyway, back to the matter at hand—he’s quite shocked that Toru-san likes… _someone_. He ‘s not aware that the guitarist— _the emotionless, always daydreaming, and secretly-pervert guitarist_ —has actually the capability to, _you know_ , like someone.

_I really thought he’s asexual or, like, a rock or something. Seriously._

“Uh, uhm…” he said, voice pitched high in panic, “I really think that you shouldn’t—,” Taka gulped nervously when Toru-san’s lips pursed into a small pout, as if he’s actually sad that “nii-chan” is ignoring whatever he’s saying. He instantly backtracked at that, “—wait, is she cute?”

At that, Toru-san nodded happily. It’s like whoever he’s thinking of just made his world a _better place_ or some equally sweet yet corny stuff like that.

“Mmmh, yeah…cute,” he mumbled incoherently, “…like a cute, tiny Pokémon…”

…

Taka stared up at the feverish, and probably _delirious_ guitarist. Damn, Toru-san’s brain cells were totally _fried_ by his immense body heat for him to compare this special someone to a _Pokémon_.

“Uh…?”

 “Pretty _eyes_ …” the guitarist continued, sighing _dreamily_ ,  “Pretty _nose_ … _pretty lips_ …”

Taka started building up the image of Toru’s beloved in his head.  _Do I know this girl?_ Is she also from Amuse? Does Toru-san like her because of her charms and beauty alone?

“Kind…”

_Oh, glad to hear that Toru-san still values those kind of things huh…_

“Can cook _delicious_ meals…”

Taka’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at that. So, apparently, this mystery girl that captivated their leader’s hearts has _already shared a meal_ with Toru-san? _Wow,_ Taka feels quite _offended_ at that.

_Are my meals not that good?_

He pouted and softly huffed against his facemask as a bitter,  childish _jealousy_ bloomed within his chest.

_Why would Toru-san prefer that girl’s cooking? After all the times I cooked for him?! Ungrateful bastard!_

“…doesn’t wear make-ups…”

“That’s great,” he honestly said, the ugly jealousy instantly flushing out of his system, “that means she has natural beauty, right?”

“Mmm,” Toru-san weakly nodded, his breathing slowly turning into a steady rhythm against Taka’s ears, “plus..it’ll be… _weird_ …”

WHAT.

“Why would it be…” Taka leaned up, only to see the guitarist sleeping soundly again, “..weird— _mou!_ ”

How Toru-san can sleep while talking is beyond his comprehension. Annoyed, Taka huffed and attempted to pry the arms caging his lithe frame. Emphasis on the word “ _attempted_ ” because Toru-san is clinging to him like a motherfucking _koala bear!_

_W-what the hell—_

Taka groaned as he tried ( _and majestically failed_ ) pulling the abnormally strong grip away from his waist, his eyes dramatically widening as the _painful realization_ hits him.

_D-don’t tell me that I have to sleep like this with this sick, stalking, hallucinating piece of shit all night?!_

Holy fuck, Takahiro didn’t sign up for this humiliating shits!

_Oh God_ , Toru-san would definitely tear his limbs off and feed them to the sharks in Tokyo Bay if he found out about this!

Worse, Toru-san would probably _enjoy_ torturing him!

_Ugggghhh!!!_

Taka softly whimpered before _begrudgingly_ settling down, his short limbs ceasing their futile efforts to free himself from the vice-like grip of the guitarist. Since he’s obviously gonna sleep like this, he might as well make himself comfortable as much as possible.

Taka sighed, adjusted his facemask, before looking up to the leader. His glinting eyes instantly softening at the mere sight of the peaceful look on Toru-san’s face.

_That girl sure is lucky huh..._

He thought, a bit _bitterly_ , before closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru woke up due to the freezing cold temperature in his room.

“Wha—,” he groggily opened his eyes, wincing even at the soft light coming from the lamp on his bedside table, “C-cold...” he muttered as closed his eyes again, wanting to go back to his sleep as soon as possible.

It was warm in his dream, as if someone is _embracing_ him to shield him from all the _toxicity and horror_ of the world. There’s someone whispering loving, gentle words to his ears while a soft, warm hand caresses his cheeks as if he’s the most precious thing in the universe.

Toru sighed, _I can stay in that dream forever..._

But he can’t, since he’s still on his bed, well, _edge of his bed_ , wondering how he even made it onto his bunk. He can’t really remember—all that he can recall is talking to Taka and—

_WAIT—_

His eyes snapped open when he realized that the vocalist was—in fact—in his dorm room earlier!

_Oh shit—_

He rose to a sitting position, groaning as his muscles protest at the sudden and harsh movement— _damn shit fucking flu—_

“Shit,” he cursed, “Taka would fucking kill me for sleeping while he’s...” his eyes went wide as it falls on the sleeping uh... _human burrito_ beside him. A man— _wait, Taka_ —Taka is sleeping _soundly_ beside him, a mask on his face, and is currently enveloped with Toru’s blanket like a— _like a human spring roll!_

No wonder Toru’s feeling like he’s in Siberia earlier!

_You’re hogging all of my blankets, you selfish jerk!_

Toru was _beyond_ pissed, here he was, _wheezing and freezing and dying_ out of flu while this insufferable brat— _although he’s older than me_ —sleeps like a log, without a care in the world!

_Why is he even here in the first place?! And beside me of all places? Didn’t I already told him that I don’t want him to catch my flu?!_

He cursed and was about to pull the blankets off the vocalist when Taka made some cute, incoherent mumbles.

Toru’s hand freeze over the vocalist’s frame, eyes softening at the display of _weakness_ , of _vulnerability_ – _albeit unconsciously_ —made by the older teen. Now that he’s staring— _ogling is probably the right word_ —at the vocalist, he noticed that Taka’s baby-smooth cheeks look so round and plush and soft from sleeping like a child on someone’s bed.

_Someone._

Toru’s fingertips, _raw and calloused_ from the constant playing of guitar, lightly brushed on the smooth, creamy jaw line. His touch was so soft, like a fleeting butterfly on the vocalist’s skin.

He wonders if someone _, if some girl_ , will witness Taka’s cute sleeping face  in the future...?

Toru felt a _bitter, angry_ feeling blossoming within him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, like someone ‘s hand plunged into his chest and is squeezing his heart like a wet towel. And he doesn’t like that, _even for a bit._

Toru sighed before lying down again, gently pulling the blanket to cover his freezing body— _though his feet are still somewhat exposed because, you know, 80% of the blanket is still wrapped around the dozing vocalist, or something_ —and pulled Taka’s body _closer_.

_Well, until that girl comes, I guess I’ll just savour these moments while he’s still..._

Toru closed his eyes, his mind wandering off the _La-la-land_ , desperately trying to think of the perfect _word_ to end that statement.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think is the best word to end Toru’s statement? XD
> 
> Oh. I really wonder who is Toru-san’s beloved person hohohoho. Even if he denies it when he’s sober, his subconscious is practically screaming for Takahiro~
> 
> I really hopes that no one would be able to see Taka’s sleeping face but nah, his uh, history with those stuffs says otherwise.  
> Anyways, Leader-sama’s birthday is coming up! (well, at least in this fic XD). Thanks for always reading and to those who leaves kudos and comments. You guys are the best~!


	32. Living Dolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leader-sama is still in denial.
> 
>  
> 
> "If I can touch your heart  
> I can tell how you feel"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again~!
> 
> I know that the next update should be about Toru-san's birthday (because it was long, longe over due) but I really can't help but to write an extra chapter before that. This isn't really included in any of my drafts and would probably complicate (but will make the ending of the story quicker) my drafts but I realized that everyon'es right on asking on what happens after that night. So, this is dedicated for everyone who's been asking, I hope that you'll like this chapter (which I wrote for only 3 hours, dammit)
> 
> On with the story!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing aside from the shit-ton of errors and loopholes that you can find inside this chapter.

There is an undeniably dark, somber _atmosphere_ inside Toru’s room the next day. They woke up in a rather _compromising_ position—lying side by side, with Taka’s head resting on Toru’s chest. His arm sprawled across the heaving chest of the guitarist as he pillowed on Toru’s left arm. And his mortification didn’t end in just that— _in fact, he woke up to discover that he’s practically hugging the sick teenager like how a fucking koala hug a big-ass tree in a forest_ —even his legs we’re practically clinging to Toru-san’s for god’s sake!

It’s like…

The position they were when they woke up looks _awfully_ like…

_Like they are lovers for a long, long time now._

And Taka just wanted to crawl under a boulder and die because of sheer humiliation. And _blushing._ Since he woke up, he’s been blushing like there’s no tomorrow!

_I probably look like a damn ripe tomato right now! Gah!_

Taka clutched his— _actually, it’s Toru-san’s but he’s so damn embarrassed to care_ —blanket and hid himself in its softness and warmth.

_And oh, it also smells like Toru-san’s shampoo…huh…_

Taka found himself unconsciously sniffing the lingering scent of the vocalist on the blanket. _Damn_ , why does Toru-san smells so good? It smells like the spring—cherry blossoms and all—but with also the undeniable manly scent—something that reminds Taka of a _warm, caring, loving_ home.

_Maybe I should also buy this brand of…shampoo…_

His nose halted twitching and sniffing like a trained dog when he met those totally impassive eyes of their rhythm guitarist.

_FUCK._

Taka had almost forgotten that Toru-san is still… _existing!_ Just because of that stupid shampoo!

“Gah!” he screeched, inching backwards towards the edge of the not-so-big bed, “It’s not what you’re thinking about! I’m _totally not_ sniffing your blanket coz I l _ove_ how you smell, you dumbass!” he cried, as he felt all of his blood rush to his face.

Toru-san raised a curios brow at that. He’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, some of the sheets were covering his legs and his hair were so damn messy but still annoyingly looks good on the guitarist.

…

Toru-san stared at him as if Takahiro just spilled all of his _deepest, darkest secrets_.

He stared at Taka.

 

And stared _more._

Without even saying anything— _which just makes everything worse, dammit!_

“Really, Taka?” Toru-san’s deep, rough voice sent chills down to Taka’s spine. When was the last time that he saw Toru-san just after waking up? Ah, right—Taka mentally snorted as he remembered the day when he crashed at this unit, only to be pushed out of bed.

_I also discovered that he’s an Avril fanboy for-god’s sake!_

Taka subtly glanced around the room, gulping nervously as he started getting paranoid on being surrounded by too-many Avril— _it feels like her eyes are following my every move!_

“You love how I smell?”

_Oh for the love of god—_

Taka dove his furiously blushing face on his palms, thinking on how he really, _really_ wanted to wipe that stupid, good-looking, smug smirk on the younger’s face. _Gah! It’s too early and he’s already pissing me off!_

Taka wanted to bolt out of that unit—why is he even _staying_ and having mental breakdowns anyway?

Ah, _right._

“Enough of those shits,” he said, gulping and trying to fight the blush away from his cheeks. He inched closer to the guitarist’s form and frowned worriedly at his face, “How are you feeling? Do I have to bring you to the hospital? Wait, if you have the time to annoy the hell out of me even if you’re already dying, I swear to hell, Toru-san— _mpgh—!”_

Taka’s barrage of worried sentences were abruptly stopped when Toru-san placed a finger over Taka’s quivering lips to hush him up. The vocalist’s eyes grew the size of the fucking Milky Way when he felt the warm finger of the guitarist on his bottom lip.

“Shut the fuck up, Taka,” the guitarist said, his eyes drawn on Taka’s lips—which is really weird and creepy because _HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN’T JUST TOUCH PEOPLE LIKE THIS ANYTIME YOU WANT, MOU!_

“I’m fine, better than yesterday I guess?” Toru-san said as if he’s not sure himself while his finger still rests on his lip, feeling the softness, before roughly pulling away, “So don’t worry!”

Taka felt quite disappointed at the loss of contact.

WHAT.

“Who says I’m worried about you?!” he snapped wiping his mouth with the blankets, “It’s your own damn fault for not taking care of yourself properly, mou!”

“Then why did you stayed here all night?” was the man’s ever-sharp retort. Taka glared at him murderously as his still-asleep mind desperately tried to form a coherent response on that question.

_Right, why did I even bothered to stay—_

Flashbacks of the “ _I-like-someone-nii-chan_ ” event last night.

_—Gah!_

“That’s all your fault, Toru-san!” he cried, pointing an accusatory finger at the confused guitarist, “That’s because you cling like a motherfucking _octopus_ to me last night!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru almost coughed his intestines out at that. Did…Did Taka just said that he clung— _Oh God_ —

_Why can’t I remember any of that!?_

_Where is my memory when I need it the most!_

Toru scowled deeply upon wracking his mind for any scene—any bits of last night—but failed to do so. He wanted to see Taka in _his arms_ —the small frame fitting perfectly against him. He wanted to see his probably blushing, annoyed, and _definitely murderous_ face of the vocalist as he desperately tried to keep out of Toru’s embraces…

_Damn… I missed half of my life at that, huh…?_

Toru suddenly felt tired. He just wanted to lie again, sleep like a log for the next two centuries and never wake up. If Taka would only just leave quietly and without any more aggressive fussing about Toru’s health…

There’s nothing _worse_ that can happen anymore, right..?

“Then you’ve mistaken me for your older brother!”

Toru felt like a giant, rusty arrow plunged into his chest at that. What the _hell?_ Seriously? Is he really _that s_ ick last night to mistook Taka for his older brother when there’s really nothing similar to them—well—besides being the _complete opposite_ of each other?!

_Wait, what if Taka is just lying to piss me off?_

He narrowed his heavily-lidded eyes and stared at the vocalist suspiciously. _Nice try, Taka. Nice try._

“Why are you looking at me like that?!” he scowled, puffing out his cheeks like a heavily irritated blowfish when he noticed the cold, suspicious looks that Toru has been casting at his bundled form, “I’m not lying! You suddenly hug me out of nowhere saying _nii-chan_ over and over again!” he rapidly said in exasperation—before grinning like the teasing fool he is—, “I never thought that you’re that _clingy_ with your brother, Toru-san—,”

“I’m not clingy,” he deadpanned.

“Sure, Toru-san,” the totally amused smirk on the vocalist’s face says otherwise, “ _Sure._ ”

_Argh!_

What the heck.  He’s not even that affectionate with his brother—well, not since he declared that he wanted to pursue a future in the entertainment world back in grade school! His nii-chan would always lift him to his shoulders and would give him whatever he wants—like toys, hugs, and his first guitar—unlike this—this—

He stared at Taka, who’s bundled up in his blankets like a motherfucking newborn baby, babbling and cackling like a mentally ill patient. His cheeks are quite flushed, probably from cold or from a not-so-decent thought in his pretty little head—Toru doesn’t really care since Taka looks good being on his bed—

_HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH._

Here comes the weird thoughts again. He’s definitely _sick_ for him for having this strange desire to pull the vocalist closer and cuddle with him because he looks _squishy_ and _soft_ and _comfortable_ and _warm_ —

_Why can’t these thoughts leave me the fuck alone, dammit!_

Toru sighed and straightened his legs under the sheets— _why am I even using the sheets when I have my own blanket?!_

At least, things _can’t go any worse_ , right?

But _no_ —the heavens and all the Shinto gods above—or Taka— _this dimwitted vocalist who enjoys the misery of others_ —have a totally different plan for him because he suddenly stopped talking to himself, then faced Toru with a cautious look.

Like he’s a high school girl who would confess her _never-dying love_ for Toru.

…

Anyway, Taka is looking up at him, his cheeks madly blushing—making him look like a bright red stoplight—and biting his lip in worry. Toru felt that if Taka won’t speak in the next seconds, he’ll definitely end up kissing that red, slightly shaking and _oh-so kissable_ lips right there and then.

…

 _Oooooor maybe_ not, his mind backtracked, _because friends were not supposed to think of kissing each other, right?!_

Right?!

_Maybe I really should see a doctor…_

Toru’s eyes suddenly felt heavy. He really wants to sleep right now but then, Taka spoke, in a rather soft manner. Like a little child who’s about to share his dirtiest secret to his parents or something equally humiliating as that.

“Then…then you told me that you like _someone_ , Toru-san.”

…

…

Toru, then, started coughing like there’s no tomorrow. The vocalist rushed towards him—like the worried friend he is—and supported his shaking frame as he coughed his _lungs out._

“Wha—,” he wheezed, looking up at Taka who’s frowning and looking paler every cough that escaped his lips, “Wh- _what?!”_

WHAT.

WHAT DID TAKA JUST SAID?

“Are you sure you’re okay, Toru-san?” Taka’s brows knitted in confusion and worry as he raised a cool hand to check his temperature, “And oh, you _did_ said that you have someone you like.”

_Oh fucking fucked fuck!_

He groaned, _earnestly_ , before leaning back on the headboard again. Did he really said that? Damn sickness-induced amnesia! While Toru is busy wallowing in self-despair and confusion, Taka is watching him like a hawk—missing the strange flicker of a unfamiliar emotion on the vocalist’s face.

“Soooo~! man,” Taka suddenly grinned—a bit _forcefully_ —as he leaned forward, “who’s this lucky _girl_ , huh? Is she living in this dorm, too?”

Toru finds his voice a bit off and shrilly, like a girl who’s pretending to be interested in a certain topic but he’s too busy cursing himself to even brought that up.

“ _How the fuck_ would I know?!”

“Eh!?” Taka leaned back in shock as his mouth hanged open, “How would you _not_ know!? She’s your special someone, right?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, _mou_!” snapped, making the vocalist instantly shut his mouth closed, “That’s just probably my fever talking so forget everything I said, ne?”

“But they said that your subconscious tells something that you don’t wanna admit,” Taka softly said before looking down on the sheets as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. _Dammit,_ when Taka look crestfallen and pouty like that, Toru can’t help but to feel guilty for snapping like a bitch.

Whoever this…this _special person_ Taka is talking about is probably just made by his imaginations. The long autumn nights had probably affected him so his dumb mind decided that it’ll be fun if he will have some _imaginary crush or girlfriend._

“Buuuuut,”— _damn, Taka, won’t you ever shut up?!_ —, “you look quite _love-struck_ last night. I can’t ever imagine you looking like that, leader-sama~!”

He snorted at that, “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Love-struck?”

“No. Don’t call me leader- _sama_ like Alex-senpai,” he tiredly said and patted the spot beside him, “Come here.”

“WHAT.”

Taka looked at him warily instead of, _I don’t know_ , following his orders because he’s starting to get cold and sleepy and Taka is still hogging all the blankets as if he’s the sick person in the room, dammit!

“I’m not gonna bite so don’t look at me like that!”

“You stop looking at me like that!” Taka retorted, “Why are you even commanding me like you’re the _leader_ huh, Toru-san—,”

“I’m the _Leader,_ remember?” he sighed, “Just come here and let’s share the fucking blankets. I’m already freezing here!”

Taka narrowed his almond-shaped eyes before mumbling something like “ _and everyone’s calling me tyrant, you tyrant ass_!” before shuffling towards him nevertheless. Taka sat beside him and opened his blankets which Toru gladly wrapped around his cold body.

He really like these… these _comfortable moments_ of silence with the usually rowdy and bitchy vocalist. These rare moments when no one is _talkin_ g, no one is getting _violent,_ and no one is throwing _weak punches_ on his face. These moments wherein they’re sitting side by side, almost skin-to-skin—feeling and relishing at the _warmth_ from each other.

_Ah…I can totally sleep like this—_

“I thought you _really_ have someone, Toru-san,” Taka suddenly spoke making Toru inwardly groan because this midget certainly can’t read the quiet, serene atmosphere between them, “I was _about_ to kick you in the head.”

“What?” Toru grumbled, closing the blanket tightly around them to prevent the freezing air to come into their warm, cozy fortress—making Taka’s side flush onto his side as well—, “ _Jealous much_ , Takahiro?”

“I will stab you to death, Toru-san,” Taka said with so much _malice_ that Toru had to look down to see if the vocalist is serious or if he needs to run the hell out of his unit for his life or something, “And it will fucking _hurt_.”

Toru grunted but said nothing otherwise. He’s just glad that he’s _still alive and basking on the warmth_ form Takahiro beside him.

“You said that she’s like a Pokémon,” Taka continued when he realized that the guitarist had learned his lesson on shutting up, “Really, Toru-san? How could you compare someone you like to a damn Pokémon?”

Toru shrugged, not really interested on whatever Taka is babbling about. As far as he’s concern, the only one he compared to a Pokémon in his 17 years of living is…

…

…

Takahiro.

_Taka._

His precious _vocalist!_

…

Now he felt _worse_. Like he’s been stabbed a million times and torn to pieces. His eyes slowly widened as his mind raced and burn his remaining brain cells on the dire, _dire_ conclusion he’s reaching.

“She have pretty eyes…” Taka continued rambling beside him as Toru got lost in his thoughts.

He stared at the almond-shaped eyes of their vocalist—the eyes that were so passionate, glinting with youthful vibrancy but were also fierce in some way. The eyes that could make Toru feel _loved and hated_ all at the same time.

“Pretty nose and lips…”

Toru’s eyes wandered downwards, to the pair of silky, red lips that can sing high as the fucking heaven notes—the lips that can produce _angelic_ sounds and can curse you to _hell_ at the same time.

“She doesn’t wear makeups—,”

Toru snorted loudly at that. It would be indeed weird if Taka wears makeup— _wait, why am I even comparing all those descriptions to—_

“And she cooks good meals _, mou_ ,” Taka huffed in childish irritation beside him, pulling the blankets selfishly towards him, “Is she better than _me_ , Toru-san?”

That was said in a soft, low manner— _barely above a whisper_ —but it explodes at Toru’s muddled up brain. That—that last description was the _nail_ to his coffin, the wrecking ball that smash all his _denials and pretenses_ that Taka is not—that Toru is not describing about the vocalist himself!

_Gah!_

_What the fuck—did I really—albeit unconsciously—admitted that I’m attracted to this…this…_

“Buuuuut,” Taka’s strong and somewhat relieved voice startled the living daylights out of Toru. His mind instantly halted panicking when he saw the _thankful and relieved_ look on the vocalist’s face as he glanced up at Toru with the largest grin he’d ever seen on those lips, “I’m glad that it’s just your hallucinations, Toru-san~!”

_WHAT._

Toru can feel his world shut down at that. Heck, he can even feel the end of the world just by looking at the bright, _annoyingly oblivious_ smile on Taka’s face while Toru stared back at him with his usual impassive face.

_I mean, what the hell, I should also be glad that he thinks I’m just delirious last night, right?_

_Well, I’m actually delirious in the first place!_

He can’t…

Toru _can’t_ be falling in love with Taka…right?

 _We’re both guys and he_ —Toru gulped painfully when he remembered that Taka told his parents that he’s not interested in love affairs at this moment— _doesn’t give a fuck about anything else besides music and cute girls, right?_

_Not like I’m affected or what. It’s just…weird._

And _painful._

And nerve-wracking because _TAKA WOULD PROBABLY KILL ME IF HE REALIZED THAT MY SICK-SELF IS DESCRIBING HIM AS MY ( **sick-self’s** , because Toru would **never** consciously admit it) SPECIAL SOMEONE DAMMIT! _

Toru started shivering just by the thought of his painful and definitely horrible death at the hands of their vocalist—who would certainly laugh and rejoice at his demise.

“It’s not like I don’t want you to have a fling or something,” Taka said in an off-handed manner as he fiddled with the edge of the blanket, “I just _can’t imagine_ you falling in love at this stage. You know, we should focus on our band before anything else, ne?”

_Ehhhhhhh…._

Toru pouted and looked away from the vocalist. Sure, he’s glad that Taka thinks that this is all a big fucking up from Toru’s side but…but…

_Am I really attracted to Taka?_

Toru subtly glanced at the older teen, who’s yawning as if he didn’t just woke up a few minutes ago. Tears spring at the corner of those almond-shaped eyes before they snapped towards Toru—who’s _busy ogling_ the adorable rumpled looks of the vocalist, by the way, while having this…this _life-crisis_ or something.

“What are you staring at, _aho_?!” he snapped, pushing Toru by bumping on his sides, “You’re not even listening, are you?! Damn, after all the shits I poured over those words?!”

“What shits?”

“Argh! Forget it!” he said as he suddenly leaned his head on the guitarist’s head as if it’s the most _normal thing_ to do in the world—sitting with a friend, on a bed, then suddenly leaning on him like this. Toru knows that _nothing is normal_ between the two of them anymore but—but just seeing the _content, happy look_ on the vocalist’s face—he decided that his thoughts could wait.

Examining his feelings for Takahiro _could wait._

All he wanted to do right now is to snuggle with him— _preferably under the blankets coz I’m really freezing here, you selfish jerk!_ —consequences and labels be _damned_ —and sleep this tiring day away.

Besides, he’s 100% sure that those thoughts about liking someone— _about liking Moriuchi Takahiro_ —were just created by his delirious fever, right?

_Right._

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also, he’s _homo-janai_ , remember?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think because this is a hurried chapter and I probably ended up botching the story-line dammit!
> 
> also, DENY IT ALL YOU WANT TORU-SAN, NO ONE IS ACTUALLY BELIEVING THAT YOU'RE NOT ATTRACTED TO TAKA!!
> 
> Thanks for reading anyways~!
> 
> Toru-san's birthday would be up next update. Seriously.


	33. My Sweet  Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toru-san’s birthday~! (Fucking finally)
> 
>  
> 
> “You’re the only one who tenderly embraces  
> This me who can’t be honest about how he feels”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be divided into three parts (as usual) so please bear with me and my perpetual typos, grammar errors and lack of coherence.
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR and all of its glorious members will never be mine.

Toru narrowed his eyes as the smaller teen dragged him into the busy streets of Shibuya. Taka was wrapped with thick clothes and his hair covered by a black beanie while Toru wears his usual jacket over his sweater. It wasn’t the _best attire_ for the season, but no one should care since he’s not that into fashion anyway.

_Unlike this rich-borne kid in front of me._

He found it weird when Taka suddenly showed up in his dorm building and _demanded_ that he get dressed or else, he’ll throw a _huge tantrum_ outside his door.  Toru should be pissed off the _tyrant-like_ attitude of their vocalist but since today’s their rest day, before their first live in Shinjuku Loft tomorrow— _and because I’m bored out of my fucking mind, anyway_ —he begrudgingly agreed.

This brings him to the busy district, with Taka holding his wrist, tightly, as if he’s _afraid_ that Toru would just run away the moment he let go of his hand.

Toru stared at the gloved hand wrapped around his wrist.

_This is nice_ , he dreamily sighed, _although it’ll be better if he’ll take his damn gloves off…_

“ _Ano saa_ , Toru-san,” Taka glanced over his shoulder just to shot him with murderous glares, “we could get to the place faster if, _you know_ , you’ll stop daydreaming and walk faster!”

“Eh? But where are we _even_ going, Taka?”

“ _Hell._ ”

“Ah, since you’re an _ultra-pervert_ , you have a free access there, huh?” he grinned, making the vocalist huffed and yanked his arm a bit harsher.

“That’s just like the kettle calling the pan black.”

“Isn’t it supposed to be _pot_?”

Taka raised a dirty finger, making the passersby eyed the both of them warily, “See if I fucking care, smartass.”

They trudged along the busy sidewalks, with some minor _detours_ and _stop-overs_ because whenever there’s a shop selling band merchandise and cool accessories, Taka would always stop and look at them thoughtfully before declaring _“I’ll definitely buy this after I get my paycheck!”_

“Why don’t you buy it _now_?” Toru asked as he watched the vocalist looking through the glass display of a certain clothing shop, “You’ve got enough money right?”

Taka leaned away from the glass and shot him a nasty look, as if he’d just offended his entire family  or something, “Eh, I spent it on _something_ ,” he said, eyes averting,  “…besides, Alex said that I should really cut-off my expenses since I got this _weird impulsive-buying_ shits,” he tilted his head, his fingers gliding across his chin in contemplation, “he saw me buying a pair of sunglasses with diamonds on it and he immediately concluded that I’m an extravagant spender. It’s not true, is it?” he asked with such seriousness in his eyes that Toru had to look away.

He wanted to say that _“yes, Taka, you’re an extreme spender, just look at your unit and clothes and accessories and the kind of food you’re usually eating_ ” but Toru doesn’t want to get his face slapped in front of the public so he just made a non-committal grunt.

Taka eyed him _suspiciously_ , before stalking back into the curb without saying anything.

Toru knows that the unconvinced look on the vocalist’s face means that he will not be eating a _warm, home-cooked meal tonight_ but it’s better than being slapped and kicked in the streets. His stomach won’t be having a decent meal but it’s _better_ than a broken face.

Toru nodded in satisfaction with his thoughts as he followed the vocalist until he stopped in front of an _expensive-looking_ sushi shop. The guitarist’s steps immediately halted just by the sight of the shop’s name, making Taka looked back at him in confusion, and later, _exasperation_.

“What is it _now_ , Toru-san?” Taka asked, as if Toru was the one who caused their sudden stop-overs earlier, “Are we gonna stand here forever until our asses freeze over or we’ll gonna enter and _, I don’t know_ , eat ‘coz I’m fucking starving?”

“B-but—why _there_?!” he said, not moving an inch from his spot, even if Taka is already grabbing his sleeves and trying ( _failing_ ) to drag him inside the restaurant.

“Coz their sushi’s the best, _argh_!” Taka huffed in annoyance at his failure to move the giant prick, “Move you asshole!”

“It’s expensive in there!”

“You’re not the one paying anyway!” the vocalist hissed, eyes glaring daggers and everything.

Toru had never been so nervous in his entire life. This is even more scary than standing in front of the crowd when they’re performing. Well, it’s probably because Taka is standing at his side, watching his move like a _constipated hawk_ , frantically bouncing on his feet when Toru kept his hand on the shoji door— _open the damn door you jerk, what are you waiting for, a goddamned written invitation_?!—which made the situation even more nerve-wracking.

_He’s up to something._

This is _suspicious_. So _very damn obviously_ suspicious but Toru can’t just turn away and run for his life because Taka is practically hovering beside him, breathing on his neck like he’s gonna devour the guitarist alive if he doesn’t fucking open the door.

_He’s definitely up to something!_

Toru glanced warily at the older who’s murdering him with those sharp glares while practically almost pouncing on him.

_Wow, ever heard of personal space man?_

Toru mentally snorted at that since he’s well aware that the word personal space is non-existent to Taka’s vocabulary these days.

“My hair’s turning _white_ here, Toru-san!” the vocalist grumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Are you gonna open the door or what?!”

“ _Mou_ , then stop screaming!” he snapped back, the poor door rattling as his hand shook in utter nervousness, “You’re scaring me!”

“I’ll fucking kill you if—,”

“Shut up—,”

“—open up you _big coward_ —,”

“—then stop _bitching_ you—,”

“—just open—,”

“— ** _FINE_**!” he said, sliding the door open with so much force, “fine you tyrant ass!” he said before taking his first step towards his death...or into the shop. _Whatever, it’s the same anyways._

 

**“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TORU!!!”**

Toru yelped— _shrieked like a girl_ —and jump back in shock when the people inside the sop— _who’s apparently waiting for the two of them_ —suddenly shout _, in chorus_ , and pop party poppers and confetti’s to their general direction. A certain confetti popper erupted past Toru’s shoulders, and onto the royally pissed off _face_ of their vocalist.

“ _Gah—_! What the hell?!” Taka snapped, his face and hair covered with hundreds of pieces of colorful, shiny paper bits, “Did you just fire these to my _face_ , Alex?!”

Alex, who’s shaking while barely controlling his laughter, instantly let go of the popper in his hand and _vehemently_ shook his head in denial, “What? I didn’t know you were there, Mori-chan. I was actually aiming for Toru’s face!”

_What._

Toru watched in disinterest as Taka roared like a _grumpy little lion_ before pouncing on the taller guitarist, clinging onto him like a koala while sputtering curses and death threats.

“Ow, ow! Mori-chan, it hurts—,”

“I’ll shove these confetti down your throat, _you giant prick_ —,”

_Aren’t they lively_ , Toru thought solemnly. Anyway, _back to the matter at hand_ , he let his eyes roam around the shop. There were a small crowd, some of their schoolmates, dorm mates from Amuse, and some from the band they’ve been performing with during their gigs—but aside from them, there are no other customers.

_What the heck—_

Then it dawned to him—it’s...

“It’s my birthday?!” he gasped in shock as everyone suddenly stopped whatever their doing to stare at him as if he just _announced that he’s dying_ , “What.”

“I knew it!” Taka cried in victory as he looked up from beating the shit out of their lead guitarist before standing up and shaking his hair to remove the confetti’s, “His brain got _toasted_ by his fever last time!”

“Is that even possible, Mori-chan?” Ryota asked somewhere near the table of food, before resuming munching on the sushi on his plate.

“The fuck if I know,” Taka grinned before hollering, “Anyway, now that our _birthday boy_ is here, bring out the cake!”

“Geez, you don’t need to shout, Mori-chan,” Alex complained but followed nonetheless. He disappeared behind the grinning and cheering small crowd, probably to get the cake from _god-only-knows-where_.

Meanwhile, Toru can’t still believe how Taka, or the band, managed to pull this stunt together. Heck, he can’t even digest the fact that he had forgotten that today’s his birthday in the first place!

_How old am I anyway?_

He scrunched up his nose as he tries to recall his _supposed to be_ age today. Well, he’s already in his last year in high school so he’s probably...

_Wait, I’m turning 18 today?!_

_Like, being an adult but not totally an adult?!_

The look of pure shock and somewhat giddiness probably showed up on his face because Taka subtly moved closer then looked up curiously at the guitarist, his almond-eyes wide in inquisitiveness.

“Are you that surprised, Toru-san?” he asked in a low voice, probably to avoid being heard by the other people in that shop, “I thought we’re plainly obvious?”

Toru thoughtfully glanced down at the smaller figure, his hand suddenly moving on its own to gently pluck the colorful paper bits from the vocalist’s hair, “Eh, I’m more surprised to realize that today’s my birthday...”

“That’s because you’re an airhead,” Taka muttered before springing into action at the sight of the biggest cake he’d ever seen in his, _well,_ 18 years of existence, “Whoah! That’d better taste good!” he said, running towards the cake like an excited, birthday boy.

“How much is that cake again, Mori-chan?”

“Eh, I don’t know? _Expensive_ probably,” Taka nonchalantly said making Toru gulped nervously at his spot.

_I knew it! Taka probably spent a lot for this—_

 “But that’s _not_ important! Let’s sing happy birthday to our celebrant,” he widely grinned and beckoned Toru to come towards the gigantic cake, “Come here, _Toru-chan_ ~”

Toru wanted to say that he’ll punch Taka on his stupid face if he keeps on ordering him around in front of these people, but the small crowd suddenly went on full _party-mode_ as they began clapping their hands simultaneously as if they’ve been rehearsing that for _years_.

He begrudgingly trudged forward, dragging his shoes as if he _doesn’t really want to be there_.

Well, he _really don’t want_ to, but just seeing the efforts his friends— _and several unfamiliar faces_ —had made to give him a decent party made him somewhat feel like he’s being an ungrateful asshole if he keeps on frowning.

So he smiled,  _tiredly_ , before standing in front of the cake.

_Wow, it really is huge!_

It has a shit-ton of fresh strawberries on top, making Toru wonder how on earth did Taka knew that he favors the red, juicy fruit—

_Flashbacks of strawberypocky. And a brief, short, kiss._

—Ah.

_So, that’s why. Who would forget that anyway?_

_Whatever._

Everyone started singing but it was so bad, mixed-up and more of a collection of _manly grunting and roaring_ than an actual singing. Toru winced at the sheer _horribleness_ of it but kept a tight smile on his face because it will be totally rude to just flip everyone off and say how terrible they’re doing.

But unlike the patient guitarist, a certain vocalist _couldn’t take it anymore_.

“ _Mou_!” Taka finally snapped, his brows drawn together in exasperation ( _and probably, immense irritation_ ) as he made a wide gesture with his hands to stop the roaring crowd, “Stop! Your singing abilities are too low, you guys!”

“That’s just because you’re a _singer_ , Mori-chan!” Ryota whined, making everyone laugh. Toru nodded— _inwardly_ —because Taka would slap the hell out of his face if he dares to say it out loud.

“You should’ve heard yourselves! It’s _god-awful!_ ”

“Then,” Alex-senpai crossed his arms over his chest, throwing a mixture of challenging look and smirking face towards the vocalist, “ _You_ do the singing, Vocalist-chan~!”

Taka made an arrogant huff, like he’s a pompous king before shoving Alex away from the cake and attempts— _yeah, emphasis on the word “attempt”_ —to lift the gigantic sweet treat with his flimsy hands. As expected, it was too heavy— _isn’t it already obvious, Taka_ —for the small vocalist.

He grunted, puffs of air harshly escaping his lips as the entire weight of the cake fell on his hands. Toru wanted to laugh because Taka looked like he’s been carrying the weight of the _whole universe_ on his arms but he kept himself from laughing out loud because, _you know_ , he still love his _pretty face_.

And l _ife._

Whatever.

“A _little_ help here?!” Taka groaned, _pointingly_ looking at Alex-senpai but said senpai probably didn’t love his even prettier face nor his life because he just giggled— _giggled, for fuck’s sake!_ —like a totally amused child. Toru took that as a sign to finally move towards the grouchy vocalist.

“Let me help—,”

“No! Not you, b _irthday boy_ —,” Taka snorted, glaring at Toru as his arms threatened to snap into two pieces like a _brittle stick_.

“But—,”

“ _Mou_!” Ryota finally gave in, putting his food down— _wait, why is he already eating_ —before helping the vocalist to lift the cake, “Let me help you, Mori-chan!”

“Thank _fucking_ god,” Taka said in relief before loudly clearing his throat, effectively shutting up the small crowd who’s all _cooing and laughing_ at their childish antics. Taka then suddenly stared right through him, almond-shaped eyes glinting with delight, causing Toru to just dumbly stand there like a…like a _shocked, frozen toad._

…

_What’s with that silly and obviously never-thought about analogy?!_

Taka swiftly drew air into his lungs before he started singing, all while having this huge smile plastered on his face.

“Happy birthday to you~!”

The crowds started clapping and _thank all the heavenly gods_ because no one dared to sing along the vocalist.

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Toru stared at the vocalist, wondering if this is all a pretty, _pretty_ dream—that the entire year he had spent with the band— _with Takahiro_ —is all nothing but a stupid, yet _wonderful, magnificent_ dream, and that he’ll wake up, alone in his dark room on his birthday last year.

His throat suddenly decided to constrict at that thought. Flashes of his time in the hospital last year last flooded his mind, followed by an even complex strings of memories surging to his system—him getting desperate on finding a vocalist for their band; him discovering Taka, wondering how the _cute, little fluff of anger and curses can sing like a motherfucking pro_ ; how Taka’s voice resonated in his mind long after their performance had ended.

How he decided that Taka’s the one— _the only one_ —and that Toru can’t lose him; how he ended up following ( _stalking_ ) the vocalist around, persuading him to join them and make their band complete which annoyed the vocalist to no end.

How Toru felt the need to prove himself as the band leader; how he wanted to shoulder all the responsibilities, working _shifts after shifts_ just to make the band better and better— _how he desperately wanted to be the best_ —and most of all, to be good enough to be _deserving_ of that wonderful vocalist.

How he witnessed how Taka broke down, _multiple times_ , blaming his stupidity and talking of himself as if he’s the most awful, horrible person in the whole wide world—and how Toru had this urge to _comfort_ him, _soothe_ him, make him _cared for_.

How Taka finally agreed on joining, completing and thoroughly changing their band for the better; how their music morphed from some _lousy copy_ of foreign bands to something more unique, something more like their _own._

How they felt like they’re on top of the world— _making music and songs_ —feeling pumped out as if there’s no tomorrow—only to be _shattered_ when Yu decided that he’d quit, leaving them crushed and hanging into thin air.

How they’ve decided to get serious, signed with Amuse and produced not just one, but two independent EP’s.

How Toru had developed this strange feeling when he’s with Taka; how his chest clenched painfully whenever he realized that Taka is _still hiding things_ from him—still not trusting him; how he had this unfamiliar feeling of selfishness regarding the vocalist—the _strange feeling of possessiveness_ whenever he’s attacked of thoughts that Taka would end up with another person— _other person than Toru himself_.

How his heart goes _ba-dump and ba-dump_ —creating a loud, crazy rhythm beating against his chest whenever Taka is smiling, grinning, and even just huffing cutely at him. And what happened just a few days ago—when he unconsciously admitted that he likes— _that he’s attracted to this Takahiro_ —in his fever-induced hallucinations…

He…

He doesn’t know how his brain managed to flash all those _year-worth_ of memories in a matter of seconds but Toru doesn’t give a fuck anyways. Wait, does this means that he’s gonna die sooner or later?

_They say that your life flashes to you before you die, right?_

Toru’s eyes clouded with unshed tears— _no, not because of his thoughts of his sudden death_ —but because of…gratefulness. To everyone that has been a partof his life this past year. And most importantly…

“Happy birthday,” Taka continued singing, his voice rising a few notes, “Deaaaaar Toru~!”

Everyone cheered as Taka dragged the word of _endearment_ with a high, melodious voice, “…Happy Birthday to yooouuuu~!” his song concluded, making Taka grin like a complete fool up at him, “ _Omedetou!_ ”

“ _Omedetou!_ ”

…most importantly, he’s grateful to Taka. The small, wild, arrogant, brash, fire-spitting, moody, and tyrant _Taka_. The same _Takahiro_ who would go to great lengths to help his friends, cooking for everyone, keeping their band to the right track like a good director—fussing about their wellbeing like a dutiful _mother._

_The amazing, wonderful Morita Takahiro._

Toru really, _really_ felt like _crying_.

He’d never felt so thankful in his, _uh_ , 18 years of existence so he just stared at the vocalist, not caring if their friends started greeting him with a bunch of “ _omedeto’_ s” and pats on his back. How can he tear his gaze away from the vocalist when Taka is quite a sight to behold, _laughing and grinning_ and just look at Toru like _that_?

“ _Mou_ , Toru-san!” Taka said, abruptly pulling him out of his stupor, “Aren’t you gonna thank these people for gathering here for you? Show some gratitude, _aho_!”

Toru blinked and licked his lips.

Right.

_These people are still…existing, huh?_

“Uh…” he scratched the back of his neck and awkwardly bowed, “To everyone who came today, thank you very much!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a lame ending for part 1 LOL.
> 
> Thank you for always reading! Comments and suggestions are well appreciated~!


	34. 20 Years Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2~  
> Remember the handcuffs that Taka saw in Toru-san's house years ago?
> 
> "These past 20 years, who’s accepting me, who’s trash-talking me  
> until what point will it end for me  
> if it were the me of 80 years later, seeming awkward as hell to somebody  
> would I become an unseasonable person?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting addicted to Hitsuzen Maker. Damn.
> 
> I was so ecstatic when I saw Jesse-san's IG story yesterday (??). Seeing your work in another platform makes me really, really happy.
> 
> Special thanks for **Chris Fainello** for giving me the link of a certain article used for this chapter! I probably wouldn't be able to finish this chapter without your prompts! Thank you very much~
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not mine. Though I would love to have them.

Toru didn’t need any _more_ gift tonight—Taka had already gave him the _best_ just by merely existing ( _and joining their band because what would I do if Taka remains an idol or never even met me?!)_ in this timeline.

He wasn’t even expecting anything—hell _, he didn’t even how that today’s his birthday_ —so imagine is surprise when Taka gathered their band in a table for the giving of _presents_ to the birthday boy.

“On to the presents!” Taka yelled happily as if he’s the _one_ celebrating the birthday, “since today is the birthday of our beloved, hard-working, always serious and _gachapin-faced_ —,’

“WHAT—,”

“—leader-sama, let’s give him our warm _love and regards_ ,” Toru blinked when he noticed the _slightly creepy s_ mile on the vocalist’s lips as he sad those last words, “by giving him gifts! You go first, Ryota!”

“Eh?!” the youngest suddenly sat up straight, “You just want to put all the blame to me!”

Toru’s brows knitted at that. _Blame? What—_

“No buts—,” the vocalist’s eyes glinted with mischief and promises of something _horrible_ to the bassist, “Go!”

Ryota pouted like some bullied child but made no further arguments against Taka. He then pulled out a pair of slippers somewhere under the table.

“Happy Birthday, Toru-nii…” he _warily_ said as he handed the slippers out to the guitarist.

“Why don’t you look happy at all, Ryota?” he asked, accepting the _strangely_ familiar pair of slippers from the bassist.

“That’s just your imagination, Toru-nii,” the younger deadpanned, making Toru narrow his eyes in suspicions.

_He’s hiding something from me—_

“Next one’s Alex!” Taka announced, just before Toru could retort on _blackmailing_ his childhood friend into talking.

“Hai!” the lead guitarist nodded dutifully as he put a box of what was seemingly piece of jewelry on the table, “This is yours, Toru!”

What.

_What the hell?_

“Did…” he blinks up at the half-American owlishly, “Are you giving me a piece of jewelry, Alex-senpai…?”

“Yup!”

_But I’m not a girl!_ Toru’s mind whined.

“Open it, Toru!”The eldest prompted, making Toru sighed in exasperation. Whys is Alex-senpai acting like a child even though he’s the older one here? He sighed, again, as he pulled the box closer, and slowly opened it—ignoring the _madly giggling_ vocalist beside him.

What the fuck is wrong with Taka? Did he took some _laughing drugs or some shit_? Does that kind of substance even exist?!

…

He blinked down at the silver chain necklace that is innocently lying inside the black box.

This looks _familiar…_

His brows scrunched up in confusion as he inspects the jewelry. It _strongly_ resembles the one that his older brother bought for him when their dance group had just started. His brother thought that it would be cool to dance and roll around the streets of Shinjuku and Shibuya with this thick links of silver dangling from his neck.

What’s this…

_How did Alex-senpai managed to found the same…_

He looked up and was about to question his fellow guitarist when Taka suddenly _pounced_ on him—jumping towards him and _almost sitting on his lap_ with the huge grin still plastered on his _stupidly_ cute face.

“ _Maa, maa~!”_ he said, slinging a fragile arm over Toru’s shoulder, “Eve if you went totally speechless on Alex’s gift, mine is still the best!” he declared.

That… instantly piqued Toru’s _interest._

He guessed that questioning his two band mates could wait; for now, he’s totally hooked up and interested on the best gift Taka is talking about. What more can Taka give to him?

_Damn_ , he’s not really expecting more but…

“Look, look!” Taka shoved something onto his lap, “I’ve got these for you!”

Toru looked down, and with the dim light of the restaurant, he initially thought that the vocalist just gave him a book—

_What the hell? Is this pipsqueak mocking my stupidity or what_ —

—but then his eyes finally adjusted to the lights and saw a **_MOTHERFUCKING MODEL IN A VERY REVEALING POLICE OFFICER UNIFORM SMILING SEDUCTIVELY AT HIM_** —

_Wait!_

_I know this—this—!_

“And it comes with a _special item_!”

And to Toru’s more _horror and revulsion_ , Taka magically pulled out a handcuff— _a fucking gleaming metal handcuf_ f—out of thin air.

“What the hell!” he shrieked, violently shoving the two _indecent_ stuff under the low table before looking around to make sure that no one is looking while the three is currently roaring in laughter as if they all _planned_ this.

“This is my stuff!” he said through clenched teeth, referring to the porn magazine which is quietly resting somewhere under their table, “Why do you have this?!”

“Hey!” Taka said as he stepped away from the fuming guitarist, probably scared that Toru can wring that beautiful neck like _a piece of wet cloth_ , while still laughing his heart out at Toru’s complete humiliation, “I bought the other item just for you! For future, _you know_ ,” he then wiggled his eyebrows _suggestively_ , “… _escapades_ —!” and then they burst into another giggling fit.

_WHAT AM I GONNA DO WITH THAT CUFF?!_

_Sadistic, perverted midget!_

Toru snorted and looked down on the other items on their table. Now that he’s thinking about it, the slippers and the necklace looks awfully _familiar BECAUSE THEY’RE FUCKING MINE IN THE FIRST PLACE GODDAMMMIT!_

He sighed, willing the anger and irritation to subside. Well, he can’t really kick everyone’s ass— _even if he’s dying to do it_ —in front of these people so he just sighed—like an exhausted father who just came home to his rowdy bunch of family. He’s already tired and dealing with these idiots would just make him… _more tired_ , so he just let it be.

_But don’t think that you won’t get a friendly slap for this—all three of you._

“How did you even manage to get all of my stuffs…?”

“It’s Ryota!” Taka suddenly roared beside him. Even before the bassist can leap and escape, Toru had already made an arm lock around his neck and gripped tightly, “So, you’re the _one_ , huuuuh…?”

“Eh?! _C-Chotto matte_! Why me?!” Ryota flailed his arms helplessly, in a futile attempt to escape the wrath of the bandleader, “This is all Mori-chan’s idea! Waa—,”

Toru’s eyes glinted as he searched for the vocalist. Said Mori-chan, h _owever_ , had already jumped away, along with Alex-senpai who’s still howling in laughter.

“Ryota, you _traitor_!” Taka gasped, feigning hurt in his voice, “I thought that you’re never gonna tell me out?!”

“E-eh?! But Toru-nii’s gonna kill me! Help!”

Taka probably saw that the guitarist could actually kill judging with just his looks so he sighed, in exasperation, as if he’s the one who’s being bullied and raised his arms to stop… _whatever Toru’s planning to do with their bassist._

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Taka said, coughing into his fist to stop grinning like a fool, “Let him go, Toru-san and let’s talk about this peacefully—,”

“Why are talking like I’m a _hostage-taker_?!” he cried but let go of Ryota nonetheless.

“Because you’re taking Ryota _against his will_ ,” Alex-senpai said as a matter-of-factly.

“That sounds so wrong Alex-senpai,” the bassist cried in the background.

“And _perverted,_ ” Taka said before looking back at Toru who’s about to explode any moment from now, “Anyways~! We’re sorry for getting your things without your permission but _ahahaha—you should’ve seen your face—ahahahaha_ —earlier—that was simply priceless!” he then doubled over, slapping his thighs as he laughed, _not sounding apologetic at all._

Alex-senpai nodded in agreement, “Yep. Totally priceless. Should’ve brought my camera to capture your expressions, Toru~!”

“Urgh! I hate you!” he tiredly groaned. The night is not even that late and he already feels like he wants to sleep for a long, long, long time to escape these idiots.

“Anywaaaaaays,” Taka drawled for the god-knows-how-many-times-already that night, “Let’s cut all the silliness—,”

“You’re the silly one, Taka,” Toru bluntly commented but the vocalist conveniently ignored him.

“—and let’s give the real presents to our birthday boy!”

Toru eyed the older with a skeptical look. He knows that these three are perfectly capable of pulling those shits again but…

“…this is not another prank..?”

“Awww, does _Toru-chan_ developed some trauma or something?” Taka cooed teasingly before putting a small box on the table, “This is the real thing, Toru-san. This one’s from Hiro~!”

Alex-senpai and Ryota exchanged confused looks upon hearing the unfamiliar name, “Who’s Hiro?”

“Eh?” Toru stopped shaking the box and listening to the sounds it make before looking at the fidgeting vocalist, “You didn’t tell them?”

“Tell us what?”

“Mou!” Taka said, his eyes rolling back dramatically, as if he really, really don’t want to give out information about his family, “Hiro—Hiroki is _my adorable cute little_ brother. He met Toru-san last April and decided that they’re close enough to send a gift so!” he talked so fast that everyone had to strain their ears to properly hear his words, “Open it!”

…

Toru muttered a soft “ _damn tyrant_ ” before obliging—he felt his lips forming a small, excited smile at the thought that Hiro-kun actually sent him a gift. Even if he’s a _cheeky, mini-Taka._

However, his smile froze when he realized what’s in the box— _what_ —

“That’s called a PSP, Toru-san,” Taka helpfully said because Toru’s expression probably looks like he just saw  an _unknown stuff from the outer space_ , “he said that you should practice playing games so you won’t get beaten in the arcades next time.”

…

Toru blinked and look down at the small gadget in the box. He really appreciates the thought but Hiro, like his brother, really loves rubbing rock salt to his _bleeding pride huh…_

“Thanks,” he said afterwards, “Tell him that—,”

“Wow, demanding much?—“

“—but he really shouldn’t have bothered,” Toru said, sliding the box towards Ryota who has been eyeing the gadget like a treasure, “He’s still in what—elementary?”

“Eh,” Taka shrugged nonchalantly, “don’t worry, he has some savings so he can spend it on whatever he wants to.”

“But—,”

“So this Hiro is as generous as Mori-chan?” Alex-senpai asked, “Well, whatever. Here’s my gift anyway! Omedetou, Leader-sama~!”

“Don’t call me—what—,” Toru’s eyes widened in disbelief and pure, childish delight when he realized the gift— _which wasn’t even wrapped so Alex-senpai must’ve just brought this before coming here_ —it’s a new guitar case!

“Whoaaah!” his usually dead set o eyes suddenly shimmered as he ran his fingers on the black case, feeling it under his skin, almost _reverently_ , “This is so cool! Thank you, Alex-senpai!”

Alex-senpai flashed a triumphant smile at him, then towards the vocalist who just crossed his arms and huffed in indignation—probably because Toru _seems to like_ the guitarist’s gift a lot.

“I thought you need a new one since you brought another guitar, right?”

“Hai, hai!” he nodded enthusiastically as he clutched the case— _tightly_ —as if someone would just snatch it away from him, “Thank you very much!”

“Ugh!” Ryota suddenly groaned in frustration as he brought the PSP down, “I can’t beat the boss!”

“Why are you even using that, Ryota?” Toru arched an inquisitive brow at his childhood friend. The bassist just shrugged as he put the gadget back into its box.

“Eh, but you’re not into games anyway, right, Toru-nii?”

“Whatever,” Taka said impatiently, “Give your gift, Ryota.”

“Eh?” the youngest blinked at the sudden shift of the vocalist’s mood but decided that it’s probably one of those days again, you know, when Mori-chan acts have his moods swinging like _a fucking pendulum_ , “Okay…” he ducked down—

_Whys is everyone hiding their stuffs under the table?! Is there some kind of secret storage there or something?! Like Doraemon’s pocket?!_

Toru would definitely check it out. _Later though._

“Here’s my gift. Happy birthday, Toru-nii!”

“Hai. Arigato,” Toru nodded, accepting the box— _again, unwrapped—why are you all so lazy in wrapping the gifts_ —opening it, revealing a pair of black, rubber shoes.

What.

“You’re giving me…shoes..?” he asked, brows raised in question as the youngest fidgeted nervously on his seat, “Why?”

“Because Mori-chan said that _it’ll look good on you_ , Toru-nii—,”

Toru’s eyes instantly went towards the vocalist, who’s been staring at the other table where their friends from other bands are sitting, “You—,”

“Hey, Taka-san!” someone called from the table, effectively cutting Toru off, “You’re looking for a drummer, right?”

“Hai!” Taka answered a bit too quickly as if he’s been _waiting_ for someone to help him out of Toru’s intense gaze. He stood up and went to the other table without even excusing himself, much to Toru’s dismay, “Hai! We are!”

“Sensei here knows someone from his class…”

Toru snorted in disappointment, not really interested at the topic they’re talking about. Well, they definitely need a drummer but Toru is more interested on how and why Taka picked out Ryota’s gift for him.

“You…” he blinked, glancing towards Ryota, who looked like a kicked puppy, “You don’t like it, Toru-nii..?”

“What? Of course not!” he said, hugging the box tightly, “I like it!” he genuinely said. He might look like a constantly _frowning and emotionless jerk_ on the outside, but he’s really, _really_ touched that everyone made efforts and even gave him gifts on his birthday.

_Even if they’d practically stole my things and even had the guts to give it back as presents_ —yeah, Toru is really thankful. And quite _vengeful._

“He’s just probably expecting s _omething_ from Mori-chan,” Alex-senpai commented after drinking beer. Toru eyed the drink suspiciously because they’re not supposed o be drinking—first because they will be having their first one-man live tomorrow night, and second _WE’RE STILL NOT AT THE RIGHT AGE TO RINK, ALEX-SENPAI!_

But Toru’s mind focused, instead, on Alex-senpai’s words earlier. Yeah, talk about _priorities._

“What do you mean?”

“Eh? But Mori-chan’s gift is this party itself, right?” Ryota said, drinking an, thank-fucking-god orange juice, “Right?”

“Probably,” the lead guitarist shrugged, “He invited everyone, rented this restaurant, bought the cake, will be paying for everything later—,”

“WHAT—,”

“—so, what more are you _expecting_ from him, Toru?”

The guitarist blinked. He can’t really say anything about that because…because…

_JUST HOW RICH IS TAKA?!_

_How can he managed to afford all of these just for—just for—_

Images of their earlier conversation flashed through Toru’s mind. Taka said that he’s practically broke because he spent his money on something.

_Something…_

_Don’t tell me…_

“Is…” Toru wanted to smash his head onto the hard table at the conclusion he’s reaching, “Is he and idiot? Why would he—he—argh! _Idiooot!!!”_

“What’s all the fuss about?” Alex-senpai grinned while Toru glared sharply up at him, “He did it because _you’re special to him_ —to us—to everyone—

The fu—

Did Alex-senpai just spouted those fluffy things?!

“—so don’t ruin his already ruined mood by confronting him about it,” Toru can see Ryota nodding in his periphery, “Besides, it’s his money anyway so he could spend it however he wants to.”

“B-but…” Toru groaned helplessly, “he’s still an idiot…”

“Yep. A _thoughtful_ idiot hahaha!”

“Who’s the idiot!”

“Gah!”

Everyone suddenly sat up straight, assuming perfect _seiza_ positions when Taka’s distinct voice spoke behind the lead guitarist.

“Uh..” Toru wracked his brain to come up with a good excuse, “Alex-senpai _finally_ admitted that he’s an idiot.”

“WHAT.”

“A baseball idiot,” Ryota supplied helpfully, ignoring the flash of _betrayal and humiliation_ on the oldest’s face.

“Yeah,” Toru nodded solemnly as Alex-senpai hanged his jaws open in disbelief, “Alex-senpai finally admitted that he’s a baseball idiot.”

“Oh really…” the vocalist drawled, casting a totally unconvinced look on each of them. Toru can feel himself sweating profusely at the intense gaze the vocalist is directing to him, so imagine his utter relief when Taka just shrugged before dramatically exhaling and plopping his ass beside Alex-senpai, “Took you fucking long enough to admit it. Anyway—,”

Alex-senpai casted an ‘ _I’m-gonna-fucking-kill-you-later’_ kind of look at Toru. But that face doesn’t really look convincing when it’s Alex-senpai—the usually smiling, angel-faced Alex-senpai—who’s sporting it so Toru just shrugged.

_Karma is my middle name so we’re even now, you fucker._

“—sensei there said that he has an awesome drummer student. What was his name again? _Tomoki?_ ”

“Is that a girl’s name, Mori-chan?”

“Eh…” Taka tilted his head, “I think he’s a guy. We’re gonna meet him before the year ends. How does that sounds?”

“Hell yeah!”  Ryota pumped his fist in triumph, “Finally!”

“We’re not even sure if he would want to join us, Ryota-kun.”

“Don’t be like that, Alex-senpai,” Toru said, “I’ll do my best to _persuade_ this Tomoki-san to join us.”

Taka eyed him in suspicion at that, “You mean you’re gonna _stalk and pressure_ him into joining us, Toru-san?”

Toru lazily smirked at the vocalist, “I’ve already told you, Taka, it’s not stalking—it’s called _persuasion tactic_ ~”

“Ugh, what-the-fuck-ever,” Taka huffed and raised his glass to the air, “Let’s just celebrate tonight and give our best tomorrow! Cheers!”

“Cheers!” everyone suddenly said along with them. Toru shook his head, deciding that even if the three managed to make his blood boil in irritation earlier, this is still his happiest birthday.

_Yet._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gift-giving part is based on a article, translated by the wonderful Dessy-san. You can find it here: https://dnooriani.wordpress.com/2015/07/12/no-longer-a-boy-not-yet-a-man.
> 
> I just modified some things like the date of their performance on Shinjuku Loft.
> 
>  
> 
> Are you also expecting that Taka will give another gift for Toru-san? (I hope not coz you'll probably kill me because of the lameness of the next chapter LOL)
> 
> Anyways, thank you for always waiting for the update, reading and leaving comments~! You are all loved by me!


	35. Sonzai Shoumei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last part~!
> 
> "show me how to live in this world and make mistakes and things!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to **Jesse** -san for her comment a few weeks ago. It's probably unintentional but I got the inspiration (and motivation to fucking finish this shitty chapter) from your comments back then~!
> 
> Also, please note that they're still young here so getting easily drunk is somewhat reasonable. LOL.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

How Taka managed to get himself drunk was really, _really_ beyond Toru’s comprehension anymore. After the gift-giving earlier, the vocalist was the one who’s _adamant on reminding them that they shouldn’t drink their asses off_ because, well, they will be having their first live in Shinjuku Loft and yet, look where are they now—

“I’m not _druuuuunk_ ~!” Taka cutely giggled, a neck tie wrapped around his head as he danced along the older people of the crowd—looking _completely_ drunk with his heavily-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks and wobbly movements—“Tell them, Toru- _sa-an_? Toru _-chan_?” he drowsily blinked at the rhythm guitarist.

The rhythm guitarist who’s currently blaming every- _fucking_ -thing and every _-fucking_ -one for making Taka a drunken mess.

“Sa? _Ossan_?”

That made everyone howled in laughter—especially Ryota who’s gulping glasses after glasses of orange juice beside him. Alex-senpai was long gone; Toru swears that he last saw the lead guitarist sucking faces with an unfamiliar girl in a corridor on his way to the comfort room.

_Damn show off_ , he grunted when Taka slumped forward, his hands griping Toru’s shoulder—a bit too tightly—to balance himself from, you know, falling face-first on Toru’s lap. _Why is Alex-senpai always like that? They should’ve get a room instead of making out in some random corner, mou!_

…

Wait, didn’t Alex-senpai just did _exactly_ that?

Toru knitted his brows in confusion—the small amount of alcohol he’d taken earlier is already making his head fuzzier—before deciding that he really doesn’t give a flying fuck about Alex-senpai’s affairs anyway and that there are more _pressing_ matters that he should be prioritizing at the moment.

_Like Taka’s chest that is shamelessly pressing against his hell-shocked face—_

“The _fu—_ ,” he tried to protest but he got muffled by the vocalist’s dress shirt; his eyes growing wide as he got a peek of the vivid, red flush creeping to Taka’s otherwise usually creamy skin. Toru can feel his mouth instantly went dry at the up-close view of the flushed neck and chest which is totally weird because he’s _not_ supposed to feel any of that.

_Damn, I probably drank too much!_

Is this guy trying to smother him to death or embarrassment or something?!

_Sweet mother of all holies!_

Toru’s hands snapped up, in an attempt to push the other teen away—but ended up gripping Taka’s jean-cladded hips to steady his body instead.

WHAT.

“Mou!” Taka impatiently grunted above him, fishing something out of his back pockets while holding onto Toru’s shoulder for balance, “Stop mo— _hic!_ —ving around, _aho!”_

“I can’t breathe _you idiot_ —,”

“Then fucking _breathe_!” Taka hissed in exasperation, “The oxygen’s free! Wait— _yoshaa!_ ” he cheered, abruptly retreating his wobbly figure from Toru’s stiff frame. The guitarist let out a deep, _deep_ sigh of relief at being able to breathe without another body blocking his face, then he glared sharply at the vocalist.

If looks could just kill, Taka would definitely just drop dead right _there and then._

However, Taka is probably not even giving any shits about the murderous glares he’s sending to him because he just cutely knitted his brows, his lower lip puffing out in a cute pout as he scanned the content of his wallet. Toru gulped at that display of _drunken_ cuteness. Hell, if he’ll see Taka with that adorable expression whenever he’s drunk, then Toru would be _more than glad_ to pump alcohol into the vocalist’s body _every-fucking-day._

…

WAIT.

_What?!_

_Where those thoughts did even came from?!_

_From your dirty mind, aho,_ his mind bitterly supplied.

While Toru is having this weird… _existentia_ l crisis, Taka is still squinting his already lidded eyes at his wallet as if it’s some kind of university entrance exam. After a while, he looked up at Toru, with a hopeless look on his face as if he’d given up with everything.

“ _Nee, nee, ossan_ ~!” he drawled, making Toru glare at him for coming up with another weird nickname for the guitarist, “Help me read theeese—c-can’t find the right card?”

Toru could easily flip the vocalist off and say something like “ _the fuck if I care! Go bother someone else!”_ to his drunken face but seeing the helpless look on Taka’s face, add that to the pleading eyes and childish pout and Toru’s resolve instantly _crumbles into dusts._

“What card, Mori-chan?” Ryota asked, standing behind the vocalist to take a glance on his wallet. The bassist’s eyes suddenly grew wide, “Whoah, why do you have so many cards?! Are you secretly a _businessman_ , Mori-chan?!”

“What?” Taka confusedly glanced back at the youngest, “N-no? I’m just…just… _Mori-chan_?” he helpfully said as if that would actually explain everything before turning his _withering_ attention back to Toru, “Find it ossan _-san_ , then we’ll go home…” he demanded, tossing the wallet onto Toru’s lap.

Toru rolled his eyes at Taka’s demanding tone before looking for the card he knows that Taka usually used whenever he’s buying something. He silently wonders, _again,_ just how rich this spoiled little kid is for splurging whenever other people are concerned.

“Eh,” he heard Ryota said in the background—apparently, he’s too dense to realize that he’s talking to an already _thrashed out_ Takahiro—, “You’re Mori-chan, Mori-chan. How does it explain the cards in your wallet?”

“Because…cause…” Taka sniffled and tilted his head, the neck tie dangling and swishing back and forth along his movements, “cause…I’m Mori-chan and not _you_ ~!”

“Eh?”

“ _Mou!”_ Toru snapped the wallet shut, making the two instantly stop talking, “Shut up, both of you! I’ve got your card,” he said to the vocalist before putting Taka’s wallet into his own pockets— _yes, I’m not trusting you to keep this safe while you’re drunk_ —“I’ll just pay and let’s call it a day, ne?”

“No!” Taka shrieked, latching onto Toru’s arm for dear life.

“No?”

“No!” he repeated like a parrot before nodding, “Let them have more , uh, fun? Let’s just…just leave the card to Gocchan—,”

Said manager— _who should be the one stopping them from getting shit-faced before a performance_ —snapped his head towards them as if he was _magically_ summoned.

“—then go home? We still have live…tomorrow?” he asked before helplessly tugging onto Toru’s clothes.

“Wow,” Ryota said in a hushed tone, “Mori-chan’s totally knocked out.”

Toru sighed in defeat before making the dozing vocalist sit on his previous spot, “Fine. Wait here while I talk to Gocchan, ne?” he then glanced at Ryota, who’s gleefully waving fingers in front of Taka’s irritated face, “Ryota— _wait,_ what are you doing?”

“Testing if he’s still conscious,” he said waving another set of fingers but Taka just moodily swat it away, as if he’s swatting a mosquito, “Wow, he looks like he’s really pissed off huh?”

  “Whatever,” Toru grunted, “Just grab all of my things so we could go home right after.”

“Including the _handcuffs_ , Toru-nii?”

“ _All_ of my things,” he said through clenched teeth, before padding towards their manager, leaving a confused Ryota and a moody Taka behind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They managed to made it out of the restaurant— _alive and in one piece_ —even if everyone almost smothered Toru with wishes and omedeto's and more glasses of beers when he told them that they’re gonna retire for the night. Gocchan called for two taxis—one for Ryota since he can’t really take the train back to the dorm while carrying all of his Toru-nii’s stuffs—and the other one for Toru to send this drunken vocalist safely back to his apartment.

Toru sighed, puffs of air escaping his lips as he nodded to Gocchan, “Thank you for everything. I’ll leave everyone to your care for tonight, ne?”

The manager grinned up at hi before raising a thumbs up, “You’re always welcome, Toru. Just make sure to go home safely. And don’t forget to come on time tomorrow, okay?”

“Hai~!” is Taka’s drunken and overly-enthusiastic reply as if he’s not helplessly hanging off Toru’s shoulders. He even made a “peace” sign with his fingers to prove his point, “Roger, Gocchan~!”

The manager nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, before patting the guitarist on his back, “Take care of him, ne?”

Toru grunted.

_As if I had any other fucking choice._

He nodded in affirmation, watching as the man went back into the restaurant. He then detangled a hand from Taka’s form to open the taxi’s door to the backseat for the vocalist.

Taka watched him with _open-mouthed_ fascination instead of going inside the car.

“Is this…is this the _chivalry_ thing..?” he thoughtfully asked before pausing midway, tilting his head backwards to ask Toru for confirmation.

Toru groaned, wanting _nothing_ but to get the vocalist home as soon as possible, “Sure, Taka,” he relented, softly pushing the older into the taxi, “This is the chivalry thing.”

“Hmmm…” Taka hummed in response before he finally— _fucking finally_ —sat down, “That’s cool.”

“Sure, sure,” Toru nodded absent-mindedly before sitting beside the vocalist. He then, regarded the driver, who’s probably _dying out of impatience_ , “Please take us to this address.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The ride went quite well—too well for Toru’s liking that it actually starts to _scare_ him. He’s kinda expecting Taka to throw a hissy fit or a tantrum for being caged in this moving piece of metal but no—Taka didn’t look _anything close_ to a petulant brat.

He just sat there, cradling his chin as he looked out of the blurry lights outside the window. He’s smiling softly, looking sober as if he didn’t just danced around in the restaurant earlier with a neck tie wrapped around his head, and looking _quite content_ with his life as if nothing— _absolutely nothing_ —can ruin his day.

Toru grimaced at that.

_Oh, Taka._

_You’re going to be so hung over tomorrow, he thought bitterly. I just hope that you can still sing properly or else—_

Or else _what?_

Give him a session of _spanking_ and scolding?

…

That would definitely not gonna happen because Taka will slap the shit out of his face even before Toru can dump the smaller teen on his lap to spank his ass for being a mischievous brat. Besides, it was also somewhat his fault for not stopping those adults on giving and encouraging Taka to drink more beer. And since Taka said that it’ll be a good opportunity to make friends and widen their network of friends, Toru merely zipped his mouth shut and watched as the vocalist gradually got drunk as the hours went by.

“Sooo~!” Taka suddenly spoke in a sing-sang manner, breaking the tensed silence inside the cab, his eyes glinting with mischief as he glanced at Toru, “Your place or mine?”

“Gah!”

Toru and Taka yelled indignantly when the driver decided to slam onto the brakes—which almost send the two of them face-flat on the front seats.

“What the _fuck_?!” Taka spit out before moving back to his seat, “ _DO YOU WANT TO KILL ALL OF US HERE, MISTER, SIR_?!”

How…

How Taka managed to sound rude ye still _somewhat_ polite at the same time is a huge mystery to Toru. He decided that it doesn’t matter anymore, especially if the driver is now giving them odd, judging looks from the rearview mirror.

_Oh shit, don’t tell me…_

The driver mumbled a soft apology before he started the car again. He casted another look of disgust at the two teen in the backseat.

_Ugh!_

_Don’t look at me as if I just flashed my dick to your face, sir!_

A-anyways, Toru blinked as he slowly righted his sitting posture before he send a murderous glare to the direction of the huffing vocalist. _This is all because of Taka’s stupid choice of words, dammit!_ He was suddenly attacked with this urge to clear up any misconception that’s probably forming on the driver’s mind.

_And I must choose my words properly or else—_

“I think we’ve already _established_ that we’re going to _your_ unit, Takahiro.”

Oops.

_Okay, that obviously didn’t come out quite…right?_

Toru groaned, mentally slapping himself and his stupid mouth—especially when the drunk grinned _bashfully_ up at him—his lashes batting playfully against his flushed cheeks. For whatever _goddamned_ reason, Taka obviously approved of his recent statement. And Toru doesn’t like the grin that is slowly forming on those full lips.

He’s planning something—

“Of course, _of course_ ,” Taka nodded in agreement as he _practically_ moved over Toru’s lap and rests his head on the guitarist’s chest, “Take _me_ home now, Toru-chan~” he said in a sickly sweet manner.

_Toru…_

Toru can feel all of his blood rushing towards his face at this…this display of _indecency_ from the vocalist. He knows that Taka is doing this just to piss the driver off but _hell_ —

Toru reluctantly looked down—only to be met by glassy eyes, scarlet-dusted cheeks and a playful smile—before snapping his gaze straight to the front.

_Damn, Taka, what the fuck?!_

Also.

_Damn, Toru, what the hell?!_

Why is he getting _affected_ by this—this—

He really could have just shoved this teasing vocalist away but his hands (and probably entire body) refuse to cooperate. Whether he admits it or not, his body wants this contact with the vocalist. He relishes Taka’s warmth and softness and scent that his mind is already telling him to _push him down_ , do _unspeakable_ things to him, make him _cry and be_ g and wait _wait_ **_wait_** _homo janai_ **_homo janai_** —

He blinked, startled at the flow of his thoughts. It’s getting _dangerous_. Than ever. It’s probably the alcohol’s fault, right?

_Right?_

He really should’ve just shove Taka aside. Just to prevent his mind from going down the gutter. Enough is enough, anyways.

Then he met the driver’s _disgusted look._

_Well, fuck you too!_

His alcohol-filled brain smugly told his hands to wrap his hands around the vocalist’s waist and pull him closer. Taka made a soft noise of surprise before nuzzling his chest. Toru hugged him tightly, rested his chin over the vocalist’s shoulder and stared right through the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

He then smirked, and mouthed “Fuck you, _sir_.”

The driver glared at him before speeding up. Toru had never been in a car that travels that _fast._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Well,” Toru said as he watched the taxi speed away from them as if it’s being chased by a horde of zombies, “That went quite _well._ ”

He then turned towards the vocalist who’s practically hanging off his shoulders. He’s not sure if Taka is already dozing off in _Lala-land_ or what and he’s not really interested, he just want to haul his ass upstairs and be done with this day.

“Come on, let’s get you upstairs, ne?”

“Ehhh,” Taka whimpered, his arms tightening around Toru’s shoulders, “I’m tiiiired. And you’re warm…Let’s just sleep here, ne?”

“No,” Tor quickly rebuffed the older’s drunken suggestion. He’s obviously not on his right mind to suggest that they sleep outside—under the freezing December night and in risk of catching a cold or throat infection, “Go upstairs, Taka.”

Taka blearily opened his eyes as he weakly glared at the taller teen, “No!”

“Let’s go—,”

“NO!” Taka suddenly yelled, making Toru looked around in panic before glaring at the vocalist.

“What the—don’t _shout_!” he hissed, “Do you want to get arrested for causing public disturbance again, huh?!”

The vocalist vehemently shook his head.

“Good. Now,” Toru sighed, looking around to see if someone had already calling the police, “Let’s get you upstairs, ne? Without screaming?”

Taka nodded and Toru take that as a sign to lead the older to the stairs but the vocalist didn’t budge an inch, and instead, looked at him with his _kicked-puppy_ look. Toru tugged at his arm harder but Taka remained standing like a statue on his spot.

_What is it now?!_

“ _Da-ka-ra_ ,” he started as if he’s talking to a mentally-retarded person, “I’m tiiired,” he whined, slowly raising his arms as if he’s demanding a hug from the guitarist, “Carry me up..?”

…

Toru really _really_ wanted to throttle this spoiled brat but he can’t, _well_ , without giving some permanent damage to Taka’s face or body, so he just stared at him— _jaws slacked open_ , standing there like a _motherfucking pole_. It took a full minute before he found his voice and shook his head furiously, “Oh no! No, I’m not gonna carry you upstairs! _Absolutely not_!”

“But you can hug me?” Taka said, pertaining to the “ _incident_ ” inside the cab earlier. Toru made a strangled sound at that, “Besiiiides, it’s just a _few_ steps, _duuuh_!” Taka reasoned out, his frame slightly swaying sideways.

“You live in the second floor, _duh!_ ”

“Soooo…?”

“Ugh,” Toro roughly exhaled, blowing his fringes upwards as he steadied Taka’s body and prevent it from falling onto the hard, cold pavement. Yes, he still cares for their vocalist—even if he’s a drunken mess and huge headache, Toru still don’t want to damage this cute face if he fall face-first on the rough sidewalk.

“No,” he said in the most firm voice he can muster.

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Taka blinked owlishly up at him before he started inhaling—sucking oxygen as if he doesn’t breathe for centuries—and _oh no NO DON’T DO WHATEVER YOU’RE PLANNING TO DO YOU_ —

“Okay, okay!” Toru gave in, turning around before he kneels in front of the triumphant vocalist, “Just don’t fucking shout!” he said. Toru swears that he can practically hear the triumphant grin splitting the vocalist’s face. Taka made a soft noise of pure glee before he hopped onto the guitarist’s waiting back.

“ _Oof!_ ” Toru grunted, taking a few steps forward to balance himself and the vocalist who’s clinging like a damn koala to his neck, “Did you got heavier?!”

“I’m not fat!”

“Don’t move around,” he hissed, adjusting Taka’s body behind him, “We’re gonna fall down!”

“Then start walking, Toru-san!” he cheekily prompted, makingToru roll his eyes inexasperation. One of these days, he’s gonna push this pipsqueak from the second floor. Not today, _but one_ of these days. _Seriously._

“Hai, you damn tyrant.”

“Yay~!”

The first ten seconds of their trip upstairs was relatively fine. For a moment, it was silent, except for Toru’s steps and labored breathing— _how much do you weight, seriously, my arm’s gonna fucking snap here_ —since he wasn’t paying attention to any other thing, well, except for the objective of getting them both up the stairs without dying— _or worse_ —waking up the entire neighborhood and spending the night in some cold police station.

Toru heard the vocalist hummed in content behind him, feeling Taka’s face comfortably resting on his back as if his little hands are not currently choking Toru with their vice-like grip.

“ _Nee_ , Toru-saaan~!” he softly said afterwards, his voice rough and raw to Toru’s ears.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you…did you enjoy your birthday today..?”

“Of course,” he immediately answered because I’s the truth. Even if Taka managed to be a huge headache to Toru in these past few hours, it’s still the best birthday celebration for the guitarist, “Thanks for your gift anyway…”

That clearly perked up the vocalist, “What gift?”

“Uh…” Toru momentarily paused as they reached the familiar door of the vocalist’s unit, “Uhm…do you think you can go down now?” he asked when he noticed that the older teen _made no effort_ to actually walk on her feet again.

“Uh, I want to…” Taka drawled, his mind probably fogged by too much alcohol to properly work, “But _how_?”

…

“What? You want me to bring a ladder so you can climb down?”

…

Taka dreamily blinked at him. Then blinked again—before he swung his arms forward and clutched the guitarist’s neck with this malicious intent of _strangling him DEAD_ right there and then.

“ _OUCH!_ It hurts, Taka! _Fuck! Shit!_ ” Toru grunted, scrambling like a headless chicken to maintain his balance, “Stop it, dammit!”

Seeing that the younger teen is finally starting to turn purple from oxygen deprivation, Taka angrily hopped off his back and staggered backwards, until his back hit the cold, hard wall. Toru glared murderously at him, his eyes promising some _gruesome_ death later.

 “Where are your keys?” Toru asked after he regained his steady breathing.

Taka moodily shrugged, making Toru mutter a soft curse. He then fished out his own set of keys that includes the key to Taka’s apartment.

_I knew that this would be handy someday!_

He’d always thought that copying Taka’s keys— _even without the older’s express permission_ —would become beneficial one of these days—and _I’m fucking right!_

He inserted the key and pushed he door open while the vocalist merely stared _creepily_ at him—watching him with a confused look on his face the entire time.

“What gift..?” Taka repeated his question while Toru removed his shoes. He then prompted the vocalist to do the same but he just conveniently ignored him.

“What? Go inside your room okay? We’ll talk tomorrow ne—,”

“Toru-san, what gift?” is Taka’s insistent question. Toru massaged his forehead. What’s happening? Why is Taka making him confused all of the sudden? _It’s too late for dealing with this!_

“The cake?” he flailed his hands for emphasis, “The entire birthday party?”

Taka blinked up at him, looking like a totally confused drunk little kid. Toru felt himself sweating at the intense look the older teen is giving him.

What—

“O- _oh!_ _That_!” Taka finally said as he realized what Toru has been saying, “that wasn’t my gift, you silly, _silly_ uh,” his brows knitted in confusion as he searched for the right word, “…boy? Whatever. That’s not my gift _pffft!_ ”

“WHAT.”

“Wait, I’ll find it ‘kay?” Taka said, nodding to himself before practically hitting his body on everything inside his unit—

“Hey!” Toru’s hands quickly fumbled for the light switch, making the harsh fluorescent light flood he interior of the unit, “Be careful!”

“Oops!” Taka giggled before walking in a _zombie-like_ manner towards his room. Toru watched it all but when he’s about to crack his skull open against the door—Toru decided that it’s finally time to intervene and, _you know_ , prevent the vocalist from _accidentally_ killing himself or something.

He rushed forward, guiding Taka’s _madly_ giggling frame into the room.

“Wow!” he said in astonishment, “The chivalry thing again?” he asked, laughing softly eve if there’s really nothing funny about their current predicament.

“ _Hai, hai_ ,” he nodded and sat the vocalist onto his bed, “Now, where’s the gift so we could both rest?”

Instead of answering right away, Taka let his body fall onto his bed with a soft – _oof!_ His eyes closing on their own in exhaustion before he spoke again, “drawer…first one…black box?” he mumbled incoherently.

Toru obeyed the instructions and opened the mentioned drawer and shuffled into its contents. He noticed that Taka’s things are arranged neatly, by colors and shape and there’s not one box is misplaced—well, except for the black one.

_Is that it?_

He got the small box and stared at it. Wait, why is Taka even giving him another gift when he’d already gave Toru one?!

_A party for fuck’s sake!_

He…

He can’t accept whatever is in this box. It’s too much—Taka is doing, giving too much for him—so whatever this is…

“I’ve messed up, you know?” he was pulled out of his reverie when Taka softly spoke, an arm thrown over his eyes, “I’ve brought two pairs of that…one for you and me but then, Ryota said that you’re scared of needles…?”

Toru made a _strangled_ sound at that, making a mental note to ask Ryota and why he is casually telling things about him without his knowledge.

Anyway, that had gotten Toru’s full attention. His eyes unconsciously darted towards the innocent-looking box—wondering what is it.

_What if Taka planned to give me a syringe set?_

_Or a needle set?_

_What am I even gonna do with that?!_

“So I thought that _fuck iiit_ ~!” Taka whimpered before clumsily rolling around, lying on his side to properly look at him, “I’ll just buy a big, big cake and be done with it. But I’ll still give this to you coz it costs me really, _really_ big huh?”

_And the party doesn’t?_

Taka really have a _weird_ sense of shits when it comes to spending huh?

Then, Taka’s voice went a bit lower and slower, as if he’s fighting the sleepiness from claiming him.

“Just…just wear it when you’re ready, ne? Promise I’ll wear mine too… _yeah_?”

Toru watched in awe as Taka’s eyes slowly shut close, his lashes batting onto his flushed cheeks, mouth partly open as he mumbled a soft “happy birthday, Toru…” before letting sleep finally claim him.

Toru put the box down and climb onto the bed to remove the vocalist’s shoes. It wasn’t his job as the bandleader to care for a drunken member but he’s still Taka’s friend so!

_Besides, he just gave you the most awesome birthday gift, you ungrateful bastard!_

He shook his head, tucking the vocalist under layers and layers of warm blankets. He was then attacked with this odd sense of déjà vu as he loomed over the older’s sleeping form, hovering and just staring at his calm, peaceful face as if it’s the most interesting thing in the whole wide world. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as Taka made some indecipherable noises, mumbling in his sleep and making Toru feel this strange buzzing within his chest.

_He looks really cute and adorable when he’s sleeping…_

It’s probably the alcohol in his system, he thought as he reluctantly straightened up. Now that he’d tucked the vocalist in, he might as well go home and rest for the night.

But not without taking a peek into the small, black box. Toru slowly lifted the lid, his eyes growing wide at the sight of a pair of gleaming, golden round earrings.

Damn.

_I wonder how much this costs?!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru woke up with the shrilling sound of his cellphone. His head feels like it’s about to explode any moment from now and the last thing he wanted is to hear the _god-awful_ sound of the electronic device that is currently piercing the quietness of his dorm unit. He groaned and looked at the digital clock beside his bed. It says 4:35 in the afternoon—it’s still too early to get ready for their gig tonight so whoever is disturbing his only time of sleeping will definitely _taste hell_ and experience a good two hours of scolding and cursings.

He groaned and push the answer button, didn’t even opened his heavily-lidded eyes since he does not really gives a fuck on who’s calling.

“Toru-san!”

Is Taka’s _loud and eardrum-shattering_ greetings on the other line.

_The fuck._

_You’re so gonna be dead you stupid midget—_

But all that came out is a jumble of mumbles and low groans.

“ _Umgfhg..nggh_ …”

“Uh, did I perhaps, _uh_ ,” Taka chuckled nervously, his voice raw and rough and yet still sounds like a fucking music to Toru’s ears, “woke you up?”

“What the fuck do you think?”

“Oh. I really did, huh…” he blandly said and remained silent for a moment. Toru doesn’t really want to deal with this spoiled little shit so he was about to cut the call off when Taka finally spoke again.

“Uh…I have this strange, really, _really_ weird dream, Toru-san…” he said in a much quieter voice.

“And you’re calling me because?!!!”

“E to…you see,” Taka swallowed hard before talking—whispering—again, “I dreamt that you hug me, while I’m sitting on your lap last night…?”

“…”

“…and that I somehow, weirdly, _enjoyed_ it..?”

“…” Toru’s eyes blearily shot open at that.

_Oh-hoh? So Taka enjoyed it, huh…?_

“Say something, you asshole!”

Toru remained silent, just for the fun of _pissing the vocalist off._

“Gah! _Deny_ it you fucker! What’s wrong with you?!”

Toru can feel his lips slowly forming a huge grin as he imagined the vocalist to be flustered right now, fuming, and probably blushing to the tips of his ears—be it because of _anger or humiliation or embarrassmen_ t, Toru doesn’t really give a flying fuck anymore.

When Taka started showering him with foul words and _promises of days without free dinner_ , he _reluctantly_ relented. “Don’t worry, Taka…” he started, making the older teen breathe a sigh of relief.

“I fucking knew it, that’s just a weird dream ri—,”

“You _totally did_ ,” Toru cut him off, earning a deafening silence beyond the line, “We totally hug last night and you totally enjoyed it—,”

“GAH, _YOU DAMN PERVERT_!!!” Taka screeched on the phone, making Toru laugh heartily, “TAKE IT BACK YOU FUCKER! TELL ME IT’S A _FUCKED UP_ LIE!”

Instead of following the whims of their vocalist, Toru merely pushed the end call button and sighed contently on his bed. He laid his eyes on the smiling face of Avril on his ceiling, wondering how would Taka greet him later tonight— _probably by a shit-town of curses or a slap-fest or other equally painful thing_ —but Toru found himself not really getting scared anymore.

He smiled, his body fully awake now that he heard Taka’s energetic voice to start up his day.

_Saa, I should probably get ready just in case he barged in here with an axe or knife or something…_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah it's so lame I can't even.
> 
> Please don't throw rocks at me T^T
> 
> Thanks for reading though! Your comments and/or suggestions are all well appreciated~
> 
> BTW Tomoya would be appearing in the next chapter (fucking finally!)


	36. Koi no Aibou Kokoro no Cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lost country boy in the scary place called Tokyo.
> 
>  
> 
> "all the cupids of the hearts that are born,   
> one memory from there it's not limited to one road,   
> don't start a lie"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t express it into words how fucking glad I am that Tomoya finally showed up in the story. I’m also glad that I managed to finish the draft for this chapter even if it took me around 3 weeks to do so (because writer’s block is a bitch and Tomoya’s personality is really, really fucking complicated for me to grasp). Except much OOC-ness for him in this (and the next) chapter(s).  
> This chapter is set after their Shinjuku Loft performance and before the year 2006 ends. This came out as a long-ass chapter because I don’t know where to fucking cut it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own OOR in any form or shits.

Taka impatiently tapped his shoes on the platform of the Shinjuku Station, checking his watch for _god-knows-how-many-times-already_ before looking out for the people going out of the train that just arrived. He was flanked by Alex ( _who’s busy on his phone_ ), Ryota ( _who’s playing on his PSP_ ) and by a Toru-san who’s staring intently at the train, sporting his _usual_ scary Yankee-look again.

_This is the day..._

The day when they’re supposed to meet their ( _hopefully_ ) future drummer!

“He’s late,” Alex stated the obvious, looking up from his phone and smiling at the girls who are giving them odd looks— _because who wouldn’t?_ There’s a group of black-wearing teens who’s staring— _glaring on Toru-san’s part_ — at the train for the past few minutes as if the train had done something wrong to offend them— “What should we do?”

“Uh...” Ryota looked up from his PSP just to answer the lead guitarist, “We wait for a _few more_ minutes?”

“No,” Toru-san suddenly said as he adjusted the sleeves of his sweater, “We’re gonna ask _sensei_ for this Tomoya’s house address and we’re gonna—,”

“We’re gonna _what_?” Taka cut the taller teen off, already knowing his train of thought, “Stalk him and drop by his house _every night_ to pressure him into joining us like what you did to me, Toru-san?”

Alex and Ryota gaped like open-mouthed fishes at him because of that revelation while Toru-san _, the ever thick-headed_ Toru-san merely nodded his head in confirmation, “ _Hai!_ We’re gonna use this _persuasion tactic_ with him and he’ll _totally want_ to join us!”

_I think you’re gonna **totally** go to jail for that, Toru-san._

Taka blandly smiled at the leader’s _somewhat_ fucked up logic, “No, we’re _not_ gonna stalk him, Toru-san—,” he ignored the disappointed whine from the younger teen and turned towards the other two members, “we’re gonna talk to him in the most normal manner possible so behave you guys—,”

“Eh, why are you looking at _us_ , Mori-chan?”

“Isn’t Toru-nii the one who’s supposed to behave—,”

“No _buts_ ,” he firmly said, glaring at the two, effectively shutting them up, “Don’t fuck this up, okay?”

“Yeah,” Toru nodded beside him, “First impressions _are important_.”

“I don’t have any good impressions about you at first, Toru-san.”

“But you still ended up in our band, anyways.”

Taka glared as a smug, self-satisfied smirk spreads across the guitarist’s handsome face. It’s been a year when he agreed on joining Toru-san’s then _nameless_ band and he can barely remember his first impressions about him.

_What was it again?_

He deeply thinks, head innocently tilting as an image of a tall, bored-looking and Yankee-like Yamashita Toru flooded his mind _. Oh, right. Toru-san looked quite scary and aggressive and somewhat hallucinating back then, huh..._

“Enough,” he snapped before facing the platform again as another train stopped to unload its passengers, “Let’s wait for another ten minutes, if he comes, then good; if not, we’re leaving.”

“Hai~!” Alex and Ryota agreed in unison, eyes focused on the stream of people going out of the train.

“Why are you even acting like you’re the _leader_?” Toru-san huffed, shoving his hands into the pocket of his dark jeans.

“Because if our leader acts right now, he’ll probably say something like ‘ _let’s stalk him right now’_!” Taka hissed making the other two doubled over in laughter. Toru-san made an indignant sound before shaking head.

“No. I’ll say something like _: Let’s wait for another ten minutes if he comes, then god; if not, we’re gonna stalk him after lunch_.”

“That’s the same!”

“It’s not!”

“You’re still telling us to stalk him!”

“But later! Not now! That’s _obviously_ not the same!”

“Oh for the love of _god_!” Alex said, almost throwing his phone on the ground, totally fed up with their nonsense banter, “Enough of those stalking-shits! Let’s just wait silently—,”

“That’s rich coming from _you_ —,” Taka mumbled before looking away.

“—and patiently without fighting, okay?”

“Sure, Alex-senpai, then we’ll—,”

“ _Nee, nee_ ,” Ryota lowly said as he shuffled towards the three older members, “That guy looks _suspicious_. Maybe he’s our future drummer?” he said subtly glancing behind him, “Look at him but don’t make it _obvious_ —,”

Toru’s head instantly whipped towards the direction Ryota is pointing, and stared, _even if the bassist had just said not to make it obvious_ , “Where?”

“— _Mou_ , Toru-nii—,” he whined at his childhood friend’s obliviousness, “Didn’t I just said not to look?!”

“Ah,” Alex said thoughtfully, “Leader-sama is so _passionate_ about these kinds of things, huh?”

“What else is new?” Taka asked in irritation, “Since he already fucked up, let’s just make sure that this won’t go worse, ne?”

“Roger~!”

Then, everyone looked towards the direction where Ryota saw this... this _suspicious_ looking guy.

_Or child?_

What.

Everyone, especially Taka raised his brow, as they stared at this small man walking _aimlessly_ , hands tightly clutching the sling of his bag and looking around as if it’s his first time in the city-jungle of Tokyo. This guy indeed looked suspicious. He’s even wearing green from head to toe, light green Peruvian hat, green jacket, and faded green jeans and shoes...

_Well, sensei said that we’ll immediately know if it’s Tomoya-san because he stands out in the crowd..._

“He looks quite like you when we first met, Taka,” Toru snidely said beside him, without glancing away from the lost-looking teen.

“Mori-chan wore green from head to toe last year?”

“Like a _Christmas_ tree?” Alex asked.

“I _absolutely_ did not,” Taka said through clenched teeth, also not looking away from the teen across them, “Will you shut the fuck up, Toru-san?”

“ _Ha_ i.”

“Shut _up._ ”

“Ha—,”

“ _SHUT UP_.”

Taka sighed, relishing at the silence and look at the teenager again. He was about to call the teen before he piss on himself because of nervousness or something, when everyone decided to speak, lowly, and almost conspiringly again.

Toru: _He looks like a lost kid._

Alex: _Yup, terribly lost._

Ryota: _He’s obviously from the countryside. Poor guy._

...

Taka wanted to flip everyone off and slap the shits out of each other’s face but he couldn’t especially when he caught the frightened gaze of the said lost-looking _country boy_. The teen flinched, stopped on his tracks, and is probably contemplating on staying or running for his life so Taka decided that it’s about _damn time_ to go to work.

He subtly glared at the three, “Be serious. Or you’re all fucking dead,” he warned before turning towards the teen and flashing his most innocent, friendliest and bright-as-the-fucking-sun smile, “Hello there~!”

 

The teen gulped nervously, looked at the leaving train longingly as if he wants to jump back into it, before looking back to Taka and warily took small, hesitant steps towards them.

“Uh...Are you...from ONE OK RO—,”

“We are!” Ryota suddenly yelled with high-pitched voice behind him—obviously nervous about fucking up their first meeting—and making Taka inwardly _cringe_ in humiliation,  “We’re ONE OK ROCK!”

Everyone stared blankly at the nervous bassist who’s smiling so forcefully that Taka starts to feel bad for him. _Ryota can’t act for fuck’s sake, huh?_ He probably needs to intervene before the poor guy would just keel over and die because of his nerves, n _e?_

“O—okaaaay...?” Tomoya unsurely said.

_Fuck! He probably thinks that we’re a bunch of weird high-schoolers—_

“Don’t mind him,” Alex smoothly said to break this awkward atmosphere between the five of them, “He’s just nervous around new people. I’m Onizawa Alex, and you’re uh...”

“ _Kanki Tomoya_ ,” Taka helpfully whispered in the side lines.

“—uh, _Yanki Tomoka_?”

...

...

...

Taka slapped a hand over his face at that blatant display of _pure and utter stupidity_. How Alex managed to mess up their future drummer’s name like that is beyond his comprehension anymore. He actually wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole because of the humiliation of being associated with these people.

“ _I told you not to fuck this up, Alex_ ,” he growled low before smiling to the drummer like he’s not _murdering_ the lead guitarist with his side glares alone, “Kanki Tomoya, right? I’m Taka. Morita Takahiro,” Toru-san made a strangled sound beside him at the mention of his last name but he ignored it.

“These are my band mates,” he said as he started introducing everyone, “This is our leader, Yamashita Toru.”

Toru-san stared down—like he’s planning to devour and eat all of Tomoya’s internal organs—at their future drummer as if he’s sizing him up before nodding, “ _Osu!_ Toru-desu!”

Tomoya nodded, while subtly inching away from the leader. He probably got scared of the serious and _“persuasive”_ aura that the guitarist had been releasing since meeting the drummer.

“He’s the rhythm guitarist,” Taka continued, jerking his thumb towards the other guitarist, “The lead one is this. He’s an alien _otaku_ so beware, ne?”

“What’s _wrong_ with believing in aliens?!” Alex cried indignantly in the background, “They’re real! I have a lot of researches and documentaries to prove it—,”

“See? Just say the word alien and he’ll instantly lose his shits,” Taka said, nodding his head to Ryota, completely ignoring the still-blabbering Alex, “This is our bassist, Kohama Ryota. He’s also the youngest and he’s uh...” Taka glanced at the youngest, his memories of first meeting the band suddenly came up, “kind of _shy_? But he’s kind—,”

“And _pure_ ,” Toru-san added.

“And a _blushing virgin_ ,” Alex said, much to Ryota’s horror.

“Alex-senpai!” he gasped, hiding his blushing face onto the palm of his hands, “I hate you all right now!”

_Mou! That’s why you’re always teased about being a blushing virgin!_

Taka wanted to say that loud but he prevented himself from doing so, instead, he gave the drummer a hopeful look. Thankfully, the color on Tomoya’s face came back—he no longer looks like a pale, country boy who got lost in Tokyo anymore. He hopes that this is guy is not the _overly serious_ type of guy because they will definitely clash at some point. If ever, this will be the guy who will play with them from now on so his personality is a big deciding factor.

_No matter how skilled you are, if you can’t take our stupidity level on a daily basis, then you’re not the one we’re looking for._

“Ah, _kawaii~_!”Tomoya suddenly blurted out as he looked at the blushing Ryota who’s curling up in a corner. Everyone’s eyes went wide at him and when he noticed it, he instantly blinked and bow, waist-deep, “Ah _gomen, gomen_! It’s so rude of me! I-I’m Kanki Tomoya, 19 years old. _Yoroshiku-onegaishimasu!”_

_Ohhhh so he also find the totally humiliated-Ryota cute, huuuuh_ , Taka mentally nodded to himself before putting up his widest and friendliest smile, “Nice to meet you, too! Now that we’ve acquainted with each other, let’s go grab something to eat~!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Kanki Tomoya have thought for a _million times_ that day that deciding to meet this ONE OK ROCK band that morning is a big _, fat_ mistake. He really should’ve stayed home, read manga, or play with the local baseball team during their practices but no—this sense of responsibility nagged at him like an _internet ad._

_Besides, sensei-said that he’ll come with me, ne?_

Tomoya wanted to reassure himself. He’s getting squished inside the train and having this small, almost feminine body and looks didn’t help either.

_Mou~!_ He shut his eyes closed when someone accidentally touched his butt— _again_ —in the train _, I’m not even a girl for god sakes! Tokyo is really, really scary!_

So as soon as the train stopped and doors opened, Tomoya was practically _leaping out_ of the train. He just hopes that the band wouldn’t mind that he’s late or else...

_What if they’re a band of old, formal dudes who take playing too seriously? What if I don’t fit in easily?! Wait—sensei said that I should test the waters first, right?_

_..._

_What does testing the waters supposed to mean anyway? Should we go...swimming together? Huh?_

He tilted his head in confusion, as he gripped his sling bag a bit tightly before looking around. Band men should be easy to pick out even from this crowd, especially this ONE OK ROCK because sensei said that they’re quite weird and unique in their own little ways.

_Huhhh..._

He was glancing around—ducking low when he saw pretty girls in pretty dresses, stares at a poster for a new flavour of _gori-gori_ ice cream, stares at a poster of a new _katsudon_ restaurant nearby, stares at a poster of meal discount... stares at a poster of food, _food_ , **_food._**..

WAIT.

He stopped dead on his tracks when he realized that instead of actually looking for the band, he’s just merely _looking at posters about food the entire time!_

_Dammit! Am I this hungry?!_

His stomach decided to answer with a low rumble. Damn. Okay, maybe he’s _really hungry_. Food prices here in Tokyo isn’t really budget-friendly so he’s been saving up...but he really don’t have that much on him today...

_And I’m already starving! I’ll definitely die if I don’t eat for the next hour!_

WHAT.

_Chigau, chigau! I’m supposed to look for them first! Obligations first before anything else!_

But _food..._

Argh!

Tomoya wanted to pull his hair out of his scalp in frustration, and was about to actually do it, when he noticed this odd group of boys standing— _huddling like baseball players_ —in a corner of the station. They’re all wearing black for a reason—like they’re gonna summon some demons beneath the ground. Almost everyone is also glancing at them with odd looks since they definitely stood out from the crowd—

The he met those _bored-looking, unblinking eyes_ of one of the tallest teen.

— _shit, shit, shit! Are they really a band or a Yankee group looking for someone to bully?! Maybe I should just go back...?_

He subtly looks back at the train which is still loading passengers. _It’s not too late to jump back into it, right? This guy is super scary, dammit!_

Tomoya was about to run for his dear life when one of the boys—the _middle-schooler—looking_ one suddenly stared directly on his eyes, and flashed the _brightest_ smile he had ever seen in his life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

So! Here he is, following the four like a lost puppy towards a steak restaurant just outside the Shinjuku station. His wallet is practically screaming to go back into his apartment and never show his face to these rich-looking men but his feet won’t cooperate.

Besides, the scary-looking band leader— _was it Toru?—_ is walking behind him, as if he’s making sure that Tomoya can’t _escape_ even if he wants to.

_Damn it!_

“Don’t mind him,” he flinched when the vocalist suddenly walked beside him and leaned over to whisper, “He looks like a Yankee-kun but he’s actually kind and considerate.”

“Uhm,” Tomoya averted his gaze from the shining vocalist, “… _hai?!_ ”

_Is it alright to talk about your friend like that?!_

“Yeah,” the vocalist— _Takahiro?_ —nodded, mostly to himself as he continue on rambling about the scary teen behind them, “He stalked me when he’s persuading me to join their band last year—,”

“Uso!”

_Is stalking really even a thing? Isn’t it just some shit that he can see in manga or anime?!_

“Really!” Takahiro-san grimaced, as if he’s remembering something bad, “He went to the other side of Tokyo quite often just to ask me to join this band. I’m quite annoyed by him back then—,”

“That’s not true, Taka,” Toru-san mumbled behind them. Tomoya didn’t dare to glance at the taller teen because he’s scared to meet those bored, unblinking eyes, “You even made me stay at your place for a night, remember?”

“GAH!” Takahiro-san screeched, halting his steps to turn and glare at the guitarist, “Why are you even reliving those moments you idiot?!”

“Hey, hey,” the half-American-looking one said as he stepped towards them, the youngest member in tow, “Why are we not aware of that _cheesy_ part huh?”

“Probably because I _didn’t told_ you,” the vocalist huffed, “Because that’s not even worth mentioning— _mou!_ Stop embarrassing me in front of our future drummer, dammit!”

Tomoya choked at that.

_Why is he so sure that I’m gonna join the band?!_

Maybe... Maybe he should clear up some things like the _glaring fact_ that he’s also in a band at the moment? He really wanted to say that but... but looking at the hopeful looks on these guys’ faces...he feels quite bad for crushing all their expectations?

_But, how about me?!_

_Mou!_

He just want to go home and read manga’s all day!

“You’re the one embarrassing yourself, Taka,” the leader said behind them as the other two laughed at the utter humiliation of their vocalist—who’s currently huffing and pouting by the way.

“What- _the-fuck_ -ever,” Takahiro-san said as he paused in front of a western-looking restaurant, “I heard that the food here is great,” he mumbled, glancing at the signboard and nodding mostly to himself. The moment Tomoya had seen the signboard, _however_ , he immediately thought that this restaurant will make him go _bankrupt_ just by stepping inside it.

“Where did you heard that, Mori-chan?” the bassist curiously asked.

“I’ve brought _someone_ here in the past.”

“WHAT,” is the band— _and Tomoya’s_ —unified reaction. Everyone stared at Taka for a moment before they all focused their attention to the drummer because they’ve just met and they’re already reacting in _all the same way_ about the vocalist’s...rather _colorful history_ with girls.

Takahiro-san raised an inquisitive brow at their reactions, “Why are you all staring at me like that? Haven’t you brought a friend somewhere?” he asked and was answered almost simultaneously by the other four teens.

“You brought a _girl_ here,” Toru spat. He’s not even questioning the gender of this friend because he just decided that their vocalist brought a girl here in the past, making Taka subtly inched away from the leader who’s practically oozing this _somewhat gloomy_ aura around him.

“Friend _huh_...” Alex muttered in a thoughtful manner, “I’ll definitely prefer bringing them to some hotel or—,”

“Gah!” Ryota yelped indignantly, as he blushed to the tips of his ears, “I’m still in high school so my little experience in that area is understandable!”

“Well, I’ve brought some but definitely not in this kind of expensive place!” he cried in indignation.

...

WHAT.

Tomoya froze at that.

Why is he even joining into the conversation as if he already knew these people from the start|! And why are they all looking at him as if he just devoured a live crocodile in front of them?!

“Don’t you worry, Tomoya—eh _, can I call you Tomoya_?”

The drummer nodded in a daze— _probably because of the teen’s bright and charismatic smiles_. Just—just look at his face! It’s like an angel’s with that kind of eyes and sparkling eyes that were always trained at Tomoya, as if reassuring him that all of his attention is focused on the drummer!

“Don’t worry, Tomoya,” he repeated, slinging an arm around the drummer’s shoulders as he practically lead the drummer into the restaurant, “You’re our guest so let me take care of you, ne?”

_Tomoya..._

Tomoya is perfectly aware that he really, _really_ shouldn’t believe this man’s words because Tokyo is a scary place and is full of people who would take _advantag_ e of the weak ( _not that I’m saying that I’m a weak, easy-to-fool kind of guy_ ) without any hesitation. He also, somewhat, realized that this Takahiro-san can perfectly fit as _a scammer_ — _luring the weak with his friendly smile and words_ ( _again, I’m not saying that I’m a weak, easy-to-fool kind of guy_ ) until you’re in too deep and that there’s no other way out.

Like _now._

Tomoya swallowed hard as the band easily dragged him inside and into a table near the corner of the restaurant. He was too dazed and just realized that he’s been _basically_ treated like a _weak, easy-to-fool kind of guy_ when he’s already sitting in a chair and looking at the menu.

_E-eh?!_

_What am I doing here?!_

He frantically looked up to search for answers— _and probably the nearest exit_ —only to meet the leader’s unblinking gaze, instantly making him lower his eyes onto the menu again.

_He’s staring at me the whole time?!_

_Does he want to bully me or something?!_

“ _Jaa_ ,” Takahiro-san said as he closed his menu, “Let’s order, ne?”

_What! W-wait—_

Tomoya’s eyes quickly scanned the list of food and drink—and he almost had a _heart attack_ when he saw that the cheapest item on the menu is a glass of orange juice.

_Five-hundred yen for a glass of artificial orange juice?!_

He can feel his palms instantly sweat coldly at that. _Tokyo is really a scary, expensive place to live in!_

He sighed in defeat as everyone started to recite their orders to the man waiting at their table.  He’s hungry as hell but his budget is just enough for his train ticket and some food and canned drink from the cheapest vending machine in some random corner of the city.

“How about you, Tomoya?”

The drummer straightened up at the question directed at him. He looked up and cringed when he noticed that everyone is looking expectantly at him. He sweat profusely at that, his eyes darting back and forth between Takahiro-san and the waiter as his mind desperately searched for a rational answer.

Which is kind of _difficult_ when you’re being stared at by these good-looking guys as if they’re some kind of vicious, man-eating dinosaurs. _Good-looking_ dinosaurs, _though._

“Uh...” he said, looking down on the shiny table again as if it will bring him the answers to all of his problems, “I think I—I’ll just have...water?”

...

An awkward silence fell upon them. The only thing that can be heard is the faint buzz of conversations inside the establishment and the impatient tapping of the waiter’s pen on his clipboard—all of which didn’t help to calm the shits out of Tomoya, _not even for a bit!_

It was Takahiro-san who break the tensed silence at the table. Tomoya half-expected that the rich-looking teen would laugh and judge him by his order but no, Takahiro-san was looking at him with a slightly curious and somewhat worried look on his face.

“Water? You’re not hungry?”

_I’m actually starving, Takahiro-san!_

“Well...” Tomoya trailed off. He wanted to say— _scream_ —that he’s starving and has been fantasizing about food since the moment he stepped out of the train earlier but he couldn’t—since, _well,_ they’re not really that close enough to whine about food?

The vocalist stared at him for a moment before opening his menu again— _he’s gonna order more food?!_ —and roamed those almond-shaped eyes on the list, “How about a steak? Do you eat steak, Tomoya?” he asked, not looking up from the menu.

Tomoya’s face— _unconsciously_ —brightened up at the mention of meat and he was about to nod furiously and smile as if he won the lottery BUT he stopped himself to prevent more humiliation and judging stares coming to his way.

“Ah, yes, but _ano nee_ —,”

“Good,” Takahiro-san nodded, which made Tomoya and the other three glanced at him in confusion, “He’ll have a steak—how do you want yours, Tomoya?”

“E-eh?!” he was about to shook his head and ran away because _DID this midget just ordered for him without even asking if he have enough money to pay for the food_ —but Taka stared at him expectantly, smiling and blinking those bright eyes as he waited— _subtly pressured_ —an answer from him, “Uh...well-done, I guess..?” he mumbled.

“A well-done steak for him,” Taka then tur _n_ ed to the waiter,  “And orange juice.”

Tomoya cringed at that. _I can only pay for the orange juice, dammit!_

“Is that all, sir?” the waiter asked and Taka nodded. The man left, leaving Tomoya and the band to immerse themselves in a somewhat comfortable silence.

Well, maybe for them but Tomoya is already sweating _bullets_ in his seat!

_How am I gonna pay for that?!_

His frustration and anxiousness probably showed up on his face because Takahiro-san smiled at him across the table, “Don’t worry, it’s on me. You’re our guest remember?”

Tomoya wanted to cry at that—

“A-are you an _angel?_!” he blurted out, without even thinking, his words of awe and amazement for the vocalist. Everyone stared at him for a moment before they started barking in laughter like, well, _typical teenagers_ , “W-what?!”

“Angel?!” the lead guitarist asked back, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he howled in ultimate glee, “ _Mori-chan, an angel_?! Ahahahahaha that was funny— _ack!_ ” the table suddenly moved when the vocalist landed a definitely painful kick at the half-American’s shin under it.

“What do you mean by that, huh!?”

“But Mori-chan can really pass as an angel,” the bassist said with a dreamy look on his face, “he cooks delicious meal in his unit whenever we hang out there! It’s the _best!_ ”

Tomoya perked up at the mention of food before looking at the vocalist—who suddenly went timid and— _wait, is he really blushing?! Just with that simple compliment?!_

“Really~?!” Tomoya asked, “That’s cool! I can’t cook for myself even though I’ve been living in Tokyo for months!”

“Yeah, ask Toru-nii about it,” Ryota mumbled solemnly, “we’ve been in Tokyo for years and he can’t even cook an instant curry!”

“It’s the instruction’s fault!” the leader huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back on his seat, “They’re all complicated and shit. Besides, _why bother_ learning to cook when Taka is already here to cook for _me_?” he asked in a completely serious tone.

...

...

“Us,” Takahiro-san awkwardly coughed in his fist, “You mean that I’m already here to _cook for all of you_ , right?”

“Eh? Isn’t it the same thing?”

“That’s not even the point of conversation, _mou!_ ”

Tomoya blinked at the arguing pair of teens. He can’t really put the right word to described the _vibes_ he’s feeling about these two but there’s certainly a _different bond_ that formed between the vocalist and the leader. It feels like... Tomoya feels like he’s witnessing a _long time couple_ arguing over a petty thing...

WHAT.

He blinked and shook his head from the thoughts forming on his mind. He doesn’t know these people well enough to judge them, so it’s probably just his imagination, right?

_Right._

“—set the stove on fire—,”

“ _Mou!”_ Takahiro said in a louder voice, “Enough of your _disastrous_ cooking skills. Let’s talk about Tomoya here, _look_ , he’s getting pale from all the shits you’ve been spouting!”

_No_ , Tomoya wanted to say out loud _, I’m actually getting pale because of hunger_ but since he’s still starting to know these bunch of teens, he just smiled like a fool, “Eh... there’s really nothing to know about me?”

“That’s not true,” Takahiro-san frowned, making Tomoya confused if he had offended the vocalist with his words, “Everyone is unique in their own ways so there’s always something to know about a person. For example, I spend my free time listening to western music, Alex does modelling, Toru-san is usually lost in his _world of imaginations_ —,”

“I’m not!”

“—and Ryota here plays a lot of baseball,” he said before turning to Tomoya, “how about you? How do you spend your free time?”

“Uh...I play go? And baseball too!” he said, earning a surprised and somewhat excited gasp from Ryota and Alex, “I’m really stupid so I spent my days playing sports and reading manga whenever we don’t have practice or school.”

“We should play someday, Tomo-kun!” Ryota said while nodding to himself as if he just thought of a great idea. Tomoya tilted his head upon hearing the nickname.

“Eh? _Tomo-kun_?”

“They have this weird shit of giving nicknames to strangers,” Taka said, cradling his face on his palm, “At least you’re Tomo-kun, ne?”

“What’s wrong with _Mori-chan_ , Mori-chan?”

“Try getting called like a young girl and let’s see if you’ll not bitch out, Alex.”

“Why don’t you just all call him Taka?” the leader asked, earning a collective groan of disagreement from the two—

“It’s a pain the ass, Toru-nii—,”

“And he acts like a girlfr— _ACK_!” he screeched, sending a murderous glare to the vocalist who apparently kicked him under the table again, “that hurts!”

“Because I _made sure_ that it’ll hurt, asshole!”

“How about Taka-chan?” Tomoya asked making the vocalist blinked at him in confusion, “Can I call you Taka-chan?”

Taka stared at him before straightening up, “I’ll prefer if you’ll call me by my name but if that’s what you want, I guess it’s okay?”

The leader suddenly leaned forward, his heavily-lidded eyes regarding the vocalist, “Can I also call you Taka-chan—,”

“NO.”

“— _Hayai!_ ”

“Anyways,” the vocalist plainly ignored the pouting guitarist— _I didn’t know that the stoic leader can act like that too_ —, “You said that you’ve been here in Tokyo for months? You’re not originally from here, then?”

“Hai,” he nodded, “I’m from Hyogo Prefecture.”

“Ehhh,” Takahiro-san leaned back, “So you went to Tokyo to study huh? That’s cool—leaving your hometown to pursue your dreams, I mean.”

“You live here in Tokyo, then, Takahiro-san?”

“Drop the honorifics,” he said in a sudden commanding tone, “And yeah, I lived in Shibuya when I was younger. But now, I live near the studio where we do our rehearsals.”

“He got a nice unit,” Alex said.

“But expensive,” the leader said.

“And he let us hang out there most of the time!” Ryota grinned making the vocalist blush again.

“Stop it, you guys!” he snapped, “This isn’t about me! We’re here to know more of Tomoya not how you practically lives in my unit!”

“Eh,” Toru thoughtfully said, “but if he’s gonna be our drummer, he’s ought to know where we usually hang out, ne?”

“I know!” Ryota said, making everyone jumped i surprise when he leaned forward and raised his hand like a _diligent student_ , “Let’s go to Mori-chan’s unit afterwards! And eat some home-made food!”

“Why are you deciding it, _aho?!”_

“E-eh,” Tomoya smiled and reluctantly nodded and shot a pitying glance at the vocalist. _It’s probably hard to be bullied by your friends huh?_

_(Oh, Tomoya, if you only know your future in Taka’s hands…)_

He was about to voice out his refusal when the waiter arrived with their food. Tomoya’s mouth instantly waters just by the sight and smell of the delicious-looking slab of meat in front of him. He can’t believe that he’s about to eat the most expensive item on the menu and it’s free— _ABSOLUTELY FREE!_

_Wait, is it right to just start eating..?_

To Tomoya’s surprise, everyone just started eating! What the hell? Here he was, expecting if it’s rude to just eat _without a care in the world,_ only to found out that the others are, well, eating without a care in the world themselves?!

Takahiro— _why are you so damn perceptive_ —probably saw his reluctant and slightly shocked face because he stopped eating and tilted his head at Tomoya’s direction, “Why are you not eating?”

“ _Eh to_...Is it alright to have this..?” he trailed off, gesturing at the steak who’s practically begging to be devoured. The aroma of the meat is getting into Tomoya’s system so much that he knows that he’ll eat the food in a matter of minutes the moment the vocalist give him the go-signal. Takahiro frowned at him.

“Of course,” he said, “I ordered it for you, ne?”

Tomoya can’t hide the satisfied and grateful grin that broke on his face, “Then, I’ll eat it! _Itadakimasu~!_ ”

“ _Dozo!_ ” Takahiro nodded and watched him eat to his heart’s content.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka watched— _like a haw_ k—as Tomoya’s face broke into a blissful one when he took his first bite of the steak. His eyes closed and a satisfied, content smile formed on his lips as he savoured the flavours of the dish. He’s also making those small, weirdly sounds of appreciation for the food he’s happily devouring.

Taka watched it all—his expressions and apparent love for food.

_So...he loves food that much huh..?_

A small, triumphant grin formed on his full lips as he looked up to meet the _equally cunning_ stares of their band leader. Toru-san smirked at him, as if he’s saying something like: _“Seize him through his stomach.”_

Taka’s evil grin grew even wider as if they’re forming a conspiracy and strategy to lure the drummer into their band—“ _Don’t worry. I’ll definitely pull him in!”—_ before he went back eating his meal.

When did Taka and Toru started having conversation through telepathy is beyond his understanding anymore—not that he gives a flying fuck anyway.

_I think I found his weakness, huh?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for first part~!
> 
> -Tomoya had been a support drummer for ONE OK ROCK even before the Keep IT Real EP. He was the drummer in the video but his face is not shown since he’s still not an official member, well, until the release of their debut single the following year. HOWEVER, I will probably just make him join the band before the year ends because I’ve already written the Keep IT Real part and shits about their first one-man live performance at Shinjuku Loft (which coincides, I think, with the release of their 2nd EP).
> 
> -The description and impressions on Tomoya and most of the shits in this chapter were all based on ryeon’s translations. You can find them here: http://ryeon.tumblr.com/post/28844570537/rockinon-japan-june-oor-interview-part-2 AND here: http://ryeon.tumblr.com/post/39737748662/musica-september-2012-tomoya-interview. Translations are not mine.
> 
> -The “Seize him through his stomach” and “I will definitely pull him in” part were all legit. It was from the Rolling Stone March 2015 Interview. You can find it here: https://dollydesu.wordpress.com/2016/05/29/one-ok-rock-rolling-stone-march-2015-interview-part-1/. I really love all those who took time and effort to translate them 
> 
>  
> 
> Part 2 will be up in the next update~!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and suggestions are all well-loved~


	37. Never Let This Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah…Papa-Tomato is so confused.
> 
> "We have to carry on!  
> We have to make it for us!  
> But then never gonna make it!  
> Let this go!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations to One OK Rock for winning as the Best International Band in the first Rock Sound Awards! Ahhh, I’m so happy for them~
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own OOR.

Their conversation resumed while they’re eating. Tomoya learned that Ryota and the leader were originally from Osaka which explains the faint Kansai accent on the rhythm guitarist’s way of speaking. It didn’t become difficult to fit into the strings of conversation because he discovered that they all have the same passion for western music. Although their favourite artists were quite different, they still all agreed on one thing—that music is fun and that they _definitely_ want to continue on making them.

Takahiro would be the one to start topic after topic. It’s obvious that he wants to know more about Tomoya but he also don’t want to pressure him into speaking—that’s why he also asked the other members to tell something about themselves.

“Alex-senpai got _mauled_ by a group of Yankees,” Ryota said with a serious look on his face.

“Eh?! _Of all_ the things you can say about me, you decided to tell that lame story?!”

“It’s true?!” Tomoya gasped, “Are you alright? How do you even survive that?”

Alex huffed like a _mighty lion_ , earning a disbelieving snort from the vocalist, “Well, I’m _cool_ and _strong_ and—,”

“He ran with his tail between his legs,” Toru bluntly said, earning a totally offensive gasp from the other guitarist.

“How dare you tell me out, Leader-sama?!”

Tomoya burst out laughing at that because he can totally imagine this thin, _doll-looking_ teen running away for his life. Taka and Ryota told most of the stories—from the moment the band was formed by a _slightly-deranged_ and _utterly-bored-out-of-his-fucking-mind_ Toru to the moment they had their first one man live in Shinjuku Loft just a few days ago.

Sure, everyone looked a bit smug while they’re telling about the live that happened after the birthday celebration for Toru but Tomoya still listened to them with a smile on his face. There’s nothing wrong by being confident and proud of what you’ve achieved, right? These guys _did it_ —just with their _perseverance and never-dying enthusiasm_ —and there’s nothing wrong on telling it with a huge, childish grins on their faces, right?

_Ii na..._

Tomoya felt quite _envious_ with the band. He went to Tokyo with his friends and decided to form a band— _a mixture of Japanese Pop and Rock music_ —based on pure, youthful enthusiasm alone. They’ve been performing in various places but there aren’t really a lot of people coming to see them.

_We don’t even know how to make the people like us more..._

But they...these rowdy bunch of teenagers...were very much l _ike_ Tomoya but very much _different_ at the same time.

They have everything Tomoya was _seeking_ —performing before a decent number of audience, hanging out in a member’s place, eating at a random food stall in the middle of the night after rehearsal, and laughing their hearts out over trivial things—and he felt envious of that.

His friends— _the one he formed their band with_ —had gone to universities in Tokyo while Tomoya enrolled in a vocational school that specializes in Music, because it’s the only thing he’s good at, well, aside from _eating_. Even though they all came for Hyogo and all wanted to play music, they still have differences which just widens as time passed by—probably because of the environment they’re currently living with. He sometimes even started thinking if coming to Tokyo was a _bad idea_ after all...

But these four...it’s glaring obvious that they’re all different from each other and yet— _and yet_ —they managed to stay connected, like there’s this invisible string tying them all up in a bind, in a _loop_ —in a _family._

And Tomoya...

Tomoya had this tiny, _tiny, **tiny**_ feeling— _a selfish desire_ —that he wants to be part of their little family.

But—but he _can’t._

He’s in a band and wanting to be with ONE OK ROCK is like betraying his childhood friends right?

Tomoya sighed. _This is a bad idea after all..._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After eating, they went to a bowling center—because Taka and Toru _vehemently_ showed their disagreement on going into a park and play baseball rather _passionately_ —to kill time. It was enjoyable, even better for Tomoya because he hadn’t paid any single cent on the fee and foods. The whole afternoon was spent through laughing, telling stories, and sharing their tastes in Music.

Tomoya was actually starting to think that being with this band is fun, so imagine the crest-fallen look on his face when they’ve started to prepare to leave the center.

“Ehhh,” he asked when everyone—except for Takahiro who always _magically disappears_ somewhere whenever it’s time to leave—sat on the bench and stop playing, “We’re leaving?”

“Why, Tomo-kun?” Ryota asked, his face flushed from too much laughing earlier, “It’s getting late and Mori-chan said that we would eat dinner in his unit, remember?”

“Eh...”

_I still want to be with all of you..._

“Don’t worry,” Alex grinned up at him, “We’re definitely gonna play baseball— _without the killjoys_ —sometimes, yeah?”

Toru made a non-committal grunt at that.

“I fucking heard that, Alex,” the vocalist growled, waving a form at them, “The bill has been settled—,”

Eh?! He already paid?! Even for me?! Again?!

“—let’s go to my home, guys,” he then turned towards the leader, “You’re gonna pay for the taxi, Toru-san.”

Tomoya also discovered how Taka orders everyone like a _king_. It’s like he have this attitude that _whatever he wants, he gets_ and no one really dares to go against his words. However, he’s talking—no, ordering—the leader like he was the _leader_ and Tomoya expected that the impassive guitarist would just flip Takahiro off, but to his surprise, Toru just nodded—with a _resigned look_ on his face as if this occurrence had happened before.

“Haiiiii...”

Takahiro let out a satisfied smirk at that before flashing a bright smile at Tomoya, “Let’s go then?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Play.”

_So suddenly?!_

“Eh?”

Tomoya tilted his head sideways, much like a very, _very_ confused puppy when Takahiro put a pad-type electronic drum in front of him and abruptly asked him to play.

They’ve rode a taxi—which was a _very uncomfortable_ experience since they all have to squeeze themselves at the back of the vehicle while Toru is casually lounging in the passenger seat just because he paid the fare—to Takahiro’s unit. When they arrived, Tomoya was amazed how everyone acted like they _owned_ the unit—especially Toru who even went _straight to the vocalist’s room_ to retrieve an acoustic guitar from it.

_Do they even have respect for Takahiro’s place anymore?!_

_It’s probably because they’ve all been together for a year now,_ Tomoya thought to himself as he watched Alex flipped through the, _uh_ , mature magazines stacked in a corner of the room. Ryota, on the other hand, is already _raiding_ the vocalist’s fridge as if he owned it and all its contents.

_I wonder if he has some ice cream..._

Takahiro—the owner of the house himself—immediately started preparing the dinner and while he’s waiting for the meat to be cooked, he pulled the electronic drum out of nowhere, put it in front of Tomoya, sat on the single couch—his arms on either armrest—crossed his legs and ordered Tomoya to play.

Tomoya felt like everyone just _lured_ him with all the stuffs earlier— _the food, the stories, the dreams, the free shits_ —to get him into Takahiro’s house. He gulped and looked around. Takahiro was sitting directly across him, Toru was on the long couch, the guitar on his lap and looking expectantly at him, Alex stopped reading and stared at their direction while Ryota was eating strawberry shortcake as he stood behind his Toru-nii’s seat.

_It’s like I’m here for a court trial!_

He wanted to stand up, fling the device to the nearest wall and ran for his life because why are they all staring at him like that?! Like they’re already judging him just by his looks?! What if Tomoya can’t play to their standards?! What if he _fucked up_? What if he makes a fool of himself in front of these wonderful people?

That thought make his chest clenched painfully. Maybe this is _really_ a bad idea. Maybe spending an entire day with them is a bad idea. He shook his head and was about to bow down in apology when he caught Takahiro’s unwavering eyes—those almond-shaped eyes staring— _telling_ him to “ _go and play_ ”—making Tomoya bit his lip in hesitation.

...

“W-well,” Tomoya roughly exhaled as he lowered his eyes on the device in front of him, “H-here I go...”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even before the bowling sits earlier ended, Takahiro had already decided that Tomoya would be the one to be their drummer. He’s fun to be with, easy to talk to and doesn’t need too much prodding to talk about himself. He actually feels like they’ve known each other for ages.

Tomoya is cute—well, Ryota as well, but that’s _kinda expected since he’s the youngest, ne?—_ the kind of cute that makes Taka want to _abstain_ from swearing around him, and bring him hot chocolate and cookies instead. He’s also the type of cute that makes Taka want to _bully_ him to no end.

But Taka _digressed._

_I can’t just bully him when he’s not even sure of joining us, huh?_

So, Taka set those bullying thoughts aside. _Reluctantly._

He decided— _well Toru-san decided_ —that Tomoya should try playing even once before the day ends—even though Taka is already set on recruiting him. He knows that there aren’t that much of good drummers at their age but it don’t matter to Taka anymore. It doesn’t matter if Tomoya would be average in his craft, because skills can be _polished_ , the mistakes can be _perfected_ through practice and experience but character—the Tomoya he saw today— _can’t be altered_ that easily.

And Taka wanted him _that way._

So, imagine all of their surprise when Tomoya started drumming—his palms creating a steady, upbeat rhythm as they thumped against the instrument. They must all looked stupid—with their jaws hanging open like _fishes out of the water_ as they watched the drummer concentrate and get lost in his own rhythm of sounds.

“Uh...” Taka blinked out of his stupor when he realized that Tomoya had finished playing, a shy, unsure smile forming on his lips as he looked up to Taka for approval, “Is that...alright?”

Taka can still hear the beats n his eras, long after the playing has ended. He subtly glanced at Toru-san who returned an _approving_ stare at him. Taka blinked before turning towards the slightly shaking form of the drummer before him and slowly grinned— _in satisfaction_ —down at him.

“That’s _more_ than alright, Tomoya.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After that _nerve-wracking_ experience, they all shared a Chinese styled meal—prepared by Takahiro himself. Tomoya was kind of glad that he didn’t _bolt_ towards the door when the vocalist asked him to play something earlier because if he did, he wouldn’t be able to taste this _delicious, magnificent_ meal!

“ _Umai_!” he said, eyes wide at the first spoonful of Chinese-style fried rice, “How can you cook this delicious food, Takahiro?!” that came out sounding like “ _Mow mew mu moop mit cious moop, Ahiro_?!” because he started talking even before he can swallow his food.

“Don’t talk while your mouth is full,” the vocalist chastised him before glaring at Alex, “Hey! Don’t eat messily like a child! What are you, _four?_!”

They all look at the mess of rice bits around the lead guitarist’s bowl of rice. Alex looked up from his food and cried while there’s still food in his mouth, “But this is just so good!” spraying more food bits across him.

“ _Godfuckingdammit!_ ” Takahiro muttered before going back to his meal again. Tomoya thought that this might be an everyday occurrence in this, _uh_ , household because Toru just continued eating as if no one is _murdering_ anyone with sharp glares. Ryota however, sighed exhaustedly as he subtly took a gyoza from the fuming vocalist’s plate, “Here they go again...” he mumbled before eating the _stolen_ piece of food.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After the meal, they’ve watched DVD’s in Takahiro’s laptop until it was already eight in the evening. Everyone then went out to go part their ways. Alex had some date in the other side of Tokyo while Ryota had to go back to the dormitory since he have school tomorrow.

“Let’s go,” Tomoya tilted his head when Takahiro pulled his dark sweater up to his chin, “I’ll walk you to the station.”

“But it’s freezing,” he argued, looking up when the snow started falling. The year is about to end and it’s not really the greatest weather for a vocalist to walk under! Especially for his throat and voice! “I can go back myself—,”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he bluntly said making Tomoya flinch— _he’s now showing his true colors?!_ —, “you’re my guest and I’m supposed to do this.”

“I agree with Taka—,”

“GAH!” Taka and Tomoya both jumped in surprise and horror when Toru suddenly appeared _out of nowhere_ and spoke with that deep voice of his.

“What the fuck?!” Taka said, as he put a hand over his chest to calm his madly beating heart, “The fuck are you _doing_ here?!”

“Eh?” the leader asked in confusion, “I was here _all this time_?”

“I thought you’ve gone with Ryota?” Tomoya unsurely asked. Tor looked at him before his lips curl into a small smile.

“Nah, he can go home by himself—,”

_And I can’t?!_

“—besides, Taka is right. Let us walk you until the station, yeah? Just to make sure that you won’t trip on the snow like a certain _someone_ —,”

_...certain someone..?_

“I will fucking _stab you to death_ , Toru-san—,”

_Oh_. Okay. _I think I already have an idea on who is that someone._

“If you’re still here then you should’ve said something!” Taka complained, glaring up at the tall band leader, “And I’m the only one who’s gonna go with Tomoya. Go home! You also have school tomorrow, right?”

“Eh—,”

“No buts,” he hissed, eyes squinting as he gave the taller and much stronger-looking guitarist—with so much intensity that Tomoya feared for the vocalist’s life for asking a fight from Toru, “Stay _out of this_.”

Tomoya winced when Toru gave the vocalist a _scathing_ look before sighing in exasperation.

“Do what you want,” he finally relented before adjusting his scarf, “Just don’t come to me crying because you slipped on a random sidewalk again,” he smirked mischievously.

“I will _absolutely_ not!” Taka hotly said before grabbing Tomoya’s hand, “Let’s go! Let’s leave this stupid _gachapin_ to freeze his ass here!”

“E-eh?!” Tomoya reluctantly looked back at the guitarist who just waved at him, “What’s a gachapin..?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The train was about to come and Tomoya is still looking at the score sheet of the little competition they had in the bowling center earlier. The scores were _ridiculously_ low, especially Takahiro’s and Toru’s but it still made a small smile formed on his lips as he stared at it over and over again while they’re waiting. Their journey towards the station was left in a relative silence, with Takahiro humming softly and sometimes cracking up jokes that make Tomoya bend over in laughter.

“You’re gonna bore a hole on that paper if you keep on staring at it like that,” he abruptly looked up when Takahiro spoke beside him. Half of his face was hidden under the sweater and both of his hands were shoved into the pockets to prevent them from freezing over.

_He looks really, really cold huh..._

Tomoya smiled and slipped the paper into his bag, “I’ll keep this as a remembrance for today. I really have fun with you guys~!”

“Heeeh,” Taka smiled against the dark fabric of his sweater, “That’s good though we kinda fucked up our introduction shits earlier. I’m glad that you’ve enjoyed hanging out with us...I really hope that you would join us, though.”

_Ah, the forbidden topic huh?_

Tomoya’s smile slowly faded at that. He doesn’t know if the band is aware that he’s also in a band at the moment, but if they were, they didn’t brought up the topic the entire time they’re together—and Tomoya was thankful for that. Because... because he really don’t’ want to ruin the atmosphere, the _happy and hopeful_ looks on everyone’s face earlier by telling them that...that...

“You’re _already_ in a band, right?”

His head snapped towards Takahiro at that, mouth hanging open like a dumb _, illiterate_ fish.

“H-how did you know that?! Are you—are you a _psychic_ —,”

“What?” the vocalist’s brows arched in confusion, “No, you idiot! Sensei had told me when he said that he have  a student that can play drums well.”

“O-oh...” Tomoya looked down on his shoes as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, “I—I’m sorry that I didn’t brought that up with everyone earlier...”

Takahiro snorted at that, puffs of air escaping his mouth as he did so, “It’s alright. I know that it’s awkward to talk about your band when someone had their minds on asking you to join their own band...” he said in a reminiscent tone.

“R-really?”

“Hai. I was also in a band when Toru-san forced— _I mean asked_ —asked me to join the band, ne?” Takahiro coughed awkwardly as Tomoya just gaped at him, “I know it’s hard to choose between the thing you have now, and the promises of a new start with a new band. But I wasn’t happy with the band I’m with—,”

Tomoya felt like he’d been struck by a lightning at that. How could Takahiro knows his exact feelings at the moment?!

“—it’s scary to leave everything you’ve worked for behind for an unsure future with the new band but,” Takahiro softly smiled at him—a smile _much different_ from the confident, wide smile he’d shown Tomoya the entire day, and Tomoya felt himself getting mesmerized at that sight—, “I’m glad that I made that choice. Even if it turns out bad, I will just tell myself that _at least I tried_ , ne?”

How...

How can he say those things as if it’s so easy? Leaving his friends? Leaving the reason why he came to the scary place known as Tokyo? Leaving the band the he had _worked with_ , _practiced with_ , _lived with_ these past months?

_Is it really that easy?_

Tomoya felt like crying— _this time_ —because of this feeling that’s slowly tearing his heart into two parts—one wanting to stay with the life he’d created in this foreign city, the other— _the other_ , more selfish part wants to say _yes_ , to say that he’ll join the band because it’s _exactly_ what he’s been looking for the entire time. And it hurts. _It hurts so much_ —especially when Takahiro is looking at him with those soft, understanding eyes as if he knows the pain Tomoya is currently feeling.

But even before he can curl up and bawl like a child throwing a tantrum, the sound of the train coming filled the station. The two straightened up, their eyes squinting at the harsh light of the approaching train. The train halted in front of them, doors opening with a hiss to let out the passengers.

Tomoya bounced on his feet in anxiousness as he gripped the strap of his bag tightly.

It’s time to go home.

_It’s finally time to go home but..._

But...

_Why am I feeling disappointed?_

_I thought I wanted to come home as soon as possible?_

The sea of people going out of the train lessened and when it’s about time to load the train, Tomoya made a deep bow towards the vocalist in gratefulness, “Thank you for today! I’m really glad that I’ve met all of you!” he said before straightening up. Taka smiled at him without saying anything so he took that as the hint to leave and rest his mind and body in his house, but just as he turned back and was about to step into the train, Takahiro suddenly spoke behind him.

“You don’t have to decide to join us _immediately,_ ” he said, making Tomoya’s eyes widen in surprise, hastily turning around to face the vocalist, “You can go watch one of our lives and decide from there.”

“I—!”

The doors started to close, so Tomoya had to step back to avoid getting between it.

“We’ll be waiting for you, so don’t get too gloomy, _stupid_ ,” he raised a hand to waved. Tomoya gulped and nodded as the doors finally closed. He bowed again, _waist deep_ , to the vocalist—not minding the _odd stares_ he’s been getting from the other passengers—until the train moved away from the station.

Suddenly, he got this feeling that there’s _something big_ that gonna change one of these days.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takahiro hid a massive yawn behind his fist the moment he stepped out of the train station. The snow is falling like there’s no tomorrow and his fingertips were already reddening to their tips because of the cold. Walking back home under this weather will _hurt like bitch_ so he’d better start moving unless he want his ass to freeze over—

He froze when something _soft and warm_ landed on his shoulders—

_The fuck—_

He immediately wanted to elbow the shit out of the stranger who’s standing beside him—only to find Toru-san’s confused eyes blinking down at him.

_WHAT._

It took a moment for Taka to process that the guitarist had probably— _stubbornly_ —followed him to the station even if he told him to go home earlier! Toru-san, however, took that moment as he opportunity to drape the thick jacket over his shoulders and pull the hood over his head to protect it from the falling snow.

_“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE_?!” he hollered when his brain decided that it’s about high time to function again, “HAVE YOU BEEN WAITING OUTSIDE _ALL THIS TIME_ , YOU ASSHOLE?!”

Toru-san didn’t even look apologetic for his actions, _no_ , not at all because the annoyingly handsome guitarist just smirked teasingly at him, “ _Silly_ , Taka. I’ve learned my lessons. I stayed in a shop across the station, bought a jacket, and waited for you to come out. But you took so long and I thought that you decided to sleep in there—,”

Toru-san kept on babbling the exact details of his activities in the past hour while Taka just stared at him and slow digested the fact that this man just bought a jacket just to _what_ —drape onto him like some _sort of wedding veil_ or something?!

_I really should feel insulted at this_ , he inwardly mumbled, but how can he? When Toru-san is here, following him ( _no matter how creepy and stalk-ish that sounds_ ) and giving him a jacket just to make him warm under the chilling December air..?

“And I’m really worried that you’ll end up falling onto the snow, so I had to make sure that you’ll get to your unit safe and sound, ne?” Toru-san asked, finally ending his goddamned long speech. Taka stared up at him with an annoyed look on his face.

“I already told you that I’m not gonna trip on my face, idiot...” he denied, but lacking the usual bite on his tone. He’s tired, and his mind keeps on thinking about recruiting Tomoya into their little band and he wants nothing but to go home, snuggle into his blankets, and sleep like a log for days.

Toru-san probably saw the childish pout he’s sporting— _albeit unconsciously_ —at the moment because he just sighed and nodded in understanding, “ _Hai, hai._ Let’s go home, ne?” he then hold out his right hand, as if beckoning Taka to take it.

Taka, however, just _dumbly stared_ at the offered hand.

“What’s _that?_ ”

“Uh..?” Toru-san looked quite confused for a moment, “My _hand?_ ” he stupidly answered.

Taka glared at him. He’s tired and sleepy and cranky as hell but Toru-san is dumb to think that he’ll let him off with his sardonic replies without any dire consequences...or reactions from him.

“Thanks for telling the obvious, I can _see_ very much that it’s your hand, Toru-san,” Taka said through clenched teeth, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I mean, _why_ are you holding it out like that?”

“Eh... You don’t want to hold on to me just in case you slipped—,”

“I told you I won’t slip!”

“—so, it’s a no, then?” much to Taka’s horror— _and guilt_ —the guitarist suddenly pulled a kicked-puppy look and slowly started to withdraw his hand— _dammit! **Dammit!**_

“ _W-wait_!” Taka’s eyes widen when his hand unconsciously shot up to grab Toru-san’s arm and stop it from withdrawing, “I..I changed my mind,” he ignored how the guitarist’s face went all-happy and content and sunshine again in a blink of an eye, “But this doesn’t mean that I’m gonna trip or slip later, okay?”

Toru-san smiled at him, enveloping his freezing hand with a larger, warmer one. Taka felt his blood rushing at his face at the contact—it’s not even the first time they’ve held hands so why is he blushing like a high school girl on _a first date_ again?!

The younger teen linked their fingers and gently tugged at his hand, “Whatever you say, Taka,” he nodded before he started walking towards the direction of the vocalist’s house, “Let’s go ne?”

Taka nodded, and hid his flaming cheeks against the fabric of his sweater, ignoring how warm his body is already feeling just by having Toru-san by his side, “Do you...” he started.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think Tomoya would join after watching us perform, Toru-san?” he asked, is voice slightly muffled by his sweater. Toru-san glanced down at him—and Taka was kind of glad that the hood is partially covering his burning cheeks because he’s sure as hell that he don’t want the guitarist to see his _pathetic state_ at the moment—before looking back on the road.

“I guess we should just give our best performance and wait for his answer after that,” he softly answered, voice gruff and slightly shaking from the cold, “if not, we could always _persuade_ him, ne?”

“We’re not _stalking_ him, idiot,” Taka scoffed and fell into silence again—relishing at the warm, calloused hand that’s practically wrapped against his own. He softly smiled to himself, walking back home under this kind of weather will sure _hurt a bitch_ , but with Toru-san here...

_I guess it’s not that bad, after all._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Much to Taka’s _dismay_ , he tripped and slipped a total of four times before they made it back to his unit. If not for Toru-san’s quick reflexes— _and their still linked hands_ —he’d definitely find his ass and/or face planted on the deep, cold snow of the sidewalk.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Tomoya being with another band is legit, as all of you probably know by now.
> 
> -Taka usually treat Tomoya back then (I wonder if it’s the same as now? Hmmmm)
> 
> -Tomoya still have the score sheet from their bowling event.
> 
> Poor Tomoya’s heart getting torn between his friends and One OK Rock. The next chapters would tackle how Tomoya gets through with the hardest decision to make in his life. It’s not like I want to bully him or something, but I just want to show that giving up his friends is not easy—the becoming a member of OOR wasn’t a piece of cake. I also want to show that Taka is patient with him since he somewhat knew how Tomoya felt.
> 
>  
> 
> -and WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT MINI-TORUKA MOMENT IN THE END?! WTF HAHAHAHAHA
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading~!


	38. JUST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomoya's thoughts~!
> 
> "Just discover the sound  
> Burning the music in your heart  
> Scream! Cry out yeah  
> Shout your voice hoarse"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fried my fucking motherboard again. I'm glad that I've saved all of my drafts in my PC in the office or else...
> 
> Anyways, I think there will be only about 6 (I'm not sure about this, it can increase so we'll have to see...) chapters left until the end of this fanfiction BUT I'm assuring you that this story will continue, somehow, just with a higher rating (for safety) and more angst. There's only one draft that needs to be written, and the last chapter was already editted sooooo... please bear with me until then.
> 
> Also, there's no Toruka in this chapter :(
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Since the meeting with the band, Tomoya had never stopped thinking about them. It was rather _painful_ for his stupid brain—and he’s burning _more calories_ than usual because of constant thinking making him even _hungrier_ than before—to think about joining the band, even if he’s already in one.

He feels like he’s _betraying_ his childhood friends just by having this _secret desire_ of seeing Takahiro and the gang—that he’s been turning his back from their bond _forged by years of experiences and friendshi_ p. Takahiro didn’t forced him to join, didn’t give him _hollow_ promises that he’ll get better ( _or richer, who doesn’t want to be rich and be able to eat delicious food in the future?),_ nor didn’t demand that he make a choice right away—but Tomoya can feel his resolve on staying with his band slowly _crumbling_ into bits.

Like, _right now._

They’re supposed to be having a rehearsal in a few hours but Tomoya is still in his unit, staring at the manga shelved in a wooden cabinet and burning the remaining brain cells he have.

_I’m supposed to be there but I..._

He groaned, not feeling the urge to play drums anymore. It has been his passion ever since his older brother made him watched and listened to music—it has been his _solace_ since leaving Hyogo—his _pride_ , his only _talent_ —but now—

_What to do..._

What to _do..._

His stomach rumbled loudly—as if it’ there’s a monster roaring within it.

_Damn. I guess I have to eat again—_

_WAIT! I’ve just eaten lunch, dammit!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tomoya’s guilt started eating up on him the next time he went to practice. His friends crowded around him—touching his forehead and asking if he’s alright. Tomoya smiled— _grinned_ —like the sun at them, his throat constricting as he told them that he’s _absolutely fine_ and there’s _nothing_ to be worried about.

He resumed his position on the back, playing the drums with a smile but with a hollow look on his eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey, hey, hey~!”

“Gah!”

Tomoya fell disgracefully on his ass with a soft “ _oomph!”_ when he opened the door and was greeted by the _shiny, glimmering_ and completely _glowing_ look of a familiar half-American—who’s been leaning on his doorframe, looking around his unit without entering it.

“Don’t shout, Alex-senpai!” someone said in the background, “You’re scaring him!”

_Eh?_

Tomoya’s eyes widened in shock as he realized who the hell are barging into his unit that Saturday morning.

“Eh?!”

Alex invited himself into his unit with a fidgeting Ryota in tow. The half-American went inside and started rummaging through his manga collection— _as if he owns the room_ —while Ryota remained standing in the _genkan_ , with a case for a baseball bat strapped across his shoulder.

“Don’t touch his things, Alex-senpai!” he called out before smiling at Tomoya  in apology—he might be the youngest, but Tomoya could already see that the bassist is probably the one with the right principles and shits in the band—, “I’m sorry for his _uh_ , attitude, Tomo-kun,” he said, slightly flushing then shyly averting his gaze, “He kinda picked it up from Mori-chan because our vocalist allows Alex-senpai to be childish even though he’s the _oldest_ or something like that?”

“Takahiro is really _, uh_ , kind, huh?” he awkwardly said, still sitting on the floor where he had fallen earlier. It’s not like he minds the pain but he can’t really move a lot, with two strangers looming around him.

“He’s just _kind_ to you because he wants you to join, LOL,” Alex- commented making Ryota made a strangling sound, “He’s a _tyrant!_ And Toru _always_ spoils him!” he childishly ranted.

_Eh...but Ryota just said that Takahiro is allowing your childishness in his house..._

“He’s a good singer, though,” he said afterwards, making Tomoya look at him in interest. He never had the chance to see them perform nor have the money to buy their EP’s so he’s really _somewhat excited_ to see and hear Takahiro sing...

Only that it means he’s really intent on leaving his mind, right?

_Damn._

“He’s been waiting for you for _what,_ ” the guitarist glanced at Ryota for confirmation, “Three days?”

“ _Four_ , senpai,” Ryota said without looking up from the manga he’s been flipping through—he had somewhat welcomed himself and sat near the shelf to join his senior on reading Tomoya’s manga, “Mori-chan has been waiting for four days and his also somewhat getting annoyed on Toru-nii...”

Tomoya felt himself sweat at that piece of information.

“Are they having troubles because of me?!”

“Nah, just the usual stuff from our leader,” Alex shrugged, “He wanted to talk to you in person but Taka doesn’t agree since Toru would definitely just pressure you on joining. Don’t mind them though, they’re always like that, bitching like a _couple in heat_ —,”

Ryota let out a scandalized gasp out at that, “Alex-senpai!” he whined, blushing from ear to ear.

_A-re..?_

Is Toru and Takahiro... _an item?_

“—but it’s not important!” the good-looking guitarist snapped the manga shut before flashing a bright, blinding smile at him, “You told us last time that you like baseball right? Come on, let’s play!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And that’s how they ended in a playground near Shinjuku Station. There are only a few kids playing in wide, open, green span of the park since winter is already starting to get on its peak this month. In fact, Tomoya can’t even believe that he agreed on joining these two on playing—while wearing thick winter clothes.

He guess he’s fine with that— _until Ryota suddenly slipped his thick jacket of his shoulders and promptly laid it on the moist ground and started jumping around like it’s not freezing cold in here!_

“That’s dangerous!” he cried, “You’ll catch a cold like that!”

“Ehhh,” Ryota tilted his head in childish confusion, “Nee-chan said _that idiots can’t really catch a cold_ so—,”

“Pffft! Your _nee-chan’s_ harsh!”

“Never mind your _nee-chan_ ,” Tomoya thoughtfully said as his mind got assaulted by a very worried and very annoyed face of Takahiro, “I think Takahiro would get mad if you’ll catch a cold.”

That certainly seemed to do the trick because one moment they’re exchanging nervous looks, then Ryota was hurriedly putting back his clothes the next instant. Tomoya nodded, finding Takahiro’s presence to be intimidating even if he’s not actually here in the first place.

“Now that’s settled,” Alex hollered as he raised his gloved hand into the air, “Let’s have fun playing!”

“Osu!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ah!” Ryota cried when instead of sending the last ball beyond the face, it slammed heavily on Tomoya’s glove behind him with a resounding crack, “That was _supposed_ to be a homerun!”

“It’s totally _off_ the strike zone!” Tomoya defended as he straightened up, his back cracking at the long time he spent crouching low as the catcher of their mini game, “ _Itetetetetetete_ —!”

“You’re a _thousand year_ early to think that you can score homerun against me, Ryota-kun~!” Alex said in a teasing manner with an annoyingly stupid smirk on his face as he turned towards Tomoya, “Besides, our battery is the best! We’ve totally made a good strategy to defeat you, haha!”

Tomoya looked up from stretching his aching back, “Eh? We have a _strategy_?”

“Be more supportive, _aho!_ ”

“I still think that it was just pure luck on your side, Alex-senpai,” Ryota said with a childish obstinacy to accept his defeat. He pouted for a moment before his stomach decided that it’s time to finally pay some attention to it. Tomoya and Alex stared at the youngest—who’s currently twisting in embarrassment when his stomach made a grumbling, sound—like a _roaring dinosaur._

“Ah!” Tomoya said, like he just discovered the cure to cancer and shits, “You’re hungry!” he declared.

This time, Ryota and Alex eyed the drummer with odd looks. Leave it to Tomoya to state the already obvious thing as if he just invented _something_ important for the human race.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Let’s play again some other time, Tomo-kun!” Ryota shouted across the bust street between them and Tomoya. It was already dark—and freezing as hell—when they decided to wrap their mini-game up. Ryota was reluctant at first because he had not made any hit during their game but with a promise of another game next time, he hesitantly agreed nonetheless.

“I swear I’m gonna bust your record, Alex-senpai!” he declared after his pride-crushing defeat.

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Tomoya said, a tired smile on his face as he tried to placate the fuming high schooler. He decided that Ryota is a _sore loser_ when it comes to baseball—and why wouldn’t he be—when Alex did nothing but smile and grin teasingly to rile the youngest up? If he’s on Ryota’s situation, he will also probably be mad at this infuriatingly i _kemen_ —

_Just—just look at him! He looks like those men in magazines!_

“We’ll play next time, ne?” he said, “Let’s also ask Takahiro and Toru to join us. You know, the more, the merrier, ne?”

The two suddenly started coughing _violently_ —or were they l _aughing_? Tomoya couldn’t really tell because Alex and Ryota started making weird _wheezing noises_ as if they’re laughing and coughing their intestines out—all at the same time.

_Eh?! Did I say something weird?!_

“Mori-chan?!” Alex howled as he shook his head while cackling in laughter, “You really think that _stuck-up, spoiled little brat_ would play baseball?!”

“I don’t think that it’s nice to say those kinds of things to your friend but...” Tomoya tilted his head, forming images of the little vocalist as he tried— _and miserably failed_ —playing baseball, “...no?”

“He’ll _definitely_ throw a huge tantrum whenever he fails to hit the ball.”

“Toru-nii isn’t the type to play sports as well,” Ryota hummed as he seemingly forgot being a sore loser, “So they usually hang out together during our free time and whenever we don’t have school.”

“ _Together_ ,” Alex repeated, wiggling his eyebrows _suggestively_ , “In Mori-chan’s home.”

Tomoya felt like he’s supposed to get some _hints_ on whatever Alex is trying to convey with those... _suggestive movement_ of his eyebrows and the huge, knowing smirk on his face; but he’s too busy thinking that if the half-American won’t stop raising his eyebrows like that, they might go off his head or something.

When he just stared at the taller teen’s face, Alex repeated his words again, “They usually spent time _together in Mori-chan’s home_.”

_More_ eyebrow-wiggling.

“Uhm,” Tomoya felt himself sweating even if the cold winter air is blowing straight to his face, “ _Okay...?!”_

_Are those movements supposed to mean something?! Besides, the friends hanging out in each other’s house isn’t really a weird thing, ne?!_

So why is Alex huffing and giving him a quite disappointed look as if Tomoya just failed all of his expectations for him?!

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Anyway, Tomoya waved enthusiastically and send the two off with the biggest smile on his face. He really enjoyed playing baseball with the two. He’s also quite surprise to discover that while they’re almost dedicating all their time to the band, Alex and Ryota still have some time to spare for practicing and playing.

_Being with them is really nice, huh..?_

The moment their figure vanished from Tomoya’s sight, his grin instantly faded into a soft, sad smile. He really wanted the moment earlier to go longer— _last longer_ because he wanted to be with them even for another minute or two. But he’s still indecisive about joining their band...

Tomoya let out a deep _, deep_ sigh—the air blowing his fringes up—as he turned and made his way back into his unit.

Maybe...

_Just maybe_...he should see their performance even once?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tomoya clutched the strapped of his bag tightly as he stood in front of a certain club where ONE OK ROCK would be performing tonight. The nagging feeling he felt after having a baseball game with the two members made him sleepless last night so he decided that it’s about damn time to check the band out.

_I mean, I will come to a decision surely after hearing them, right?_

He gulped and made way for the groups of pretty ladies in heels that are chatting animatedly as they enter the live house. Tomoya found it weird that most of the customers that are entering were teenage girls. They’re a rock band right?! Then why are there so many girls here as if they’re gonna meet a popular actor or boy band?!

_It’s probably because of their looks_ , Tomoya’s mind supplied. That’s right—the band is composed of good-looking young teens so their fans were probably just seeing them for their looks?

_They might not even that good at music at all..._

He...

Tomoya felt quite _disappointed_ at that. Sure he wants to spend more time with the band and play more games with Alex and Ryota but what if— _what if_ —they’re really just a group of _trying hard highschool kid_ s who barely knows how to play the instruments? How would it be different from the band he’s currently affiliated with?

_I mean, good looks can fade but making and playing music is a different thing._

What if their fan base would soon deplete because the people would realize that there’s nothing really notable about the band aside from their _good-looking members?_

_Eh?! I don’t want that!_

Besides, it’s not even right to judge the band without even actually hearing them out! _Mou, I’m such an idiot for coming up with those ideas! Baka! Baka!_

“Takahiro even invited me personally,” he mumbled as he reluctantly followed the throng of people into the dark, warm interiors of Club CRAWL, “I should’ve told him that I’m coming—,”

“Whoah—,”

“Gah!” Tomoya shrieked in shock when someone suddenly whispered behind him. He looked back to see a thin but another good-looking teenager— _mou, why is everyone so fucking good-looking here, dammit!_ —staring at him with awe-filled, wide eyes, “ _A-ano_ —,”

“You know the vocalist?” the boy said, inching a bit closer for Tomoya’s comfort, “You know Morita Takahiro personally?”

Tomoya wanted to bolt out of the club house because this guy is totally giving him the _creeps_. Why is he so adamant on knowing about his relationship with Takahiro? Is he a stalker?! Was a male-stalking-another-male even a _thing_?!

_Damn, Tokyo is a really, really weird place!_

“N-no,” he said, sighing in relief when the _ikemen_ pouted but thankfully leaned back, “We’ve only just met once...”

The boy fiddled with the hem of his sleeves of his sweater—which reached almost to his fingers—before he shot the drummer an apologetic look, “ _Gomenasai_ ,” he softly said, “So you’re a new fan then?”

“Eh...” Tomoya’s eyes snapped sideways to avoid the brown orbs that are staring intently at him, “You could say that...”

“That’s nice!” he said, “They’re really good, especially the _vocalist,_ ” he nodded to himself, seemingly pleased with the compliment for Takahiro, “His voice is really, _really_ great and I’ve been wanting his autograph for a looooong time now—,”

Someone from the background yelled “ _Takeru, we’re here_!” making the boy snapped his head sideways.

“Oh, that’s my friends,” he smiled—brightly—at Tomoya before going into the crowd of people, “I hope you enjoy the night, stranger-san~!”

Tomoya smiled in return, dumbly waving until the teen went out of his sight. _Damn, are all people that friendly here_? Tokyo is indeed, a scary place, right?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

By the time that the live started, the club was already filled with the audience. Since it’s dark and because of his small and rather petite stature, Tomoya didn’t have any difficulty on hiding his frame in a corner of the live house. His eyes, however, are trained to the five persons on the platform.

He knows shit about the drummer so he thought that he’s just a support member for tonight—besides, wouldn’t it be _weird_ that Takahiro still asked him to join if they already have an official drummer?!

Anyways, Ryota and Toru are on Takahiro’s right side. The youngest is standing stiffly—like a _Roman statue_ —in the farthest corner as he cradles his bass guitar as if someone would steal it away from him. Beside him was Toru who wears a thin, white shirt and a cap—and is that a harmonica hanging on his neck?

_That’s weird...they have harmonica in their songs?! Are they really a rock band?!_

He deicide that he would discover that soon enough so there’s really no sense on burning his brain cells over that matter anymore. His eyes skipped the vocalist’s form and landed on the half-American who doesn’t look like he’s nervous at all. In fact, Alex look quite _natural_ on stage—giving flirty smiles _here and there_ , making the girls in front squeal with their high-pitched voices—like he’s used on being in front of so many people.

He’ll be more fit to be an actor. Honestly.

Tomoya nodded to himself before glancing at the vocalist. Takahiro is wearing a loose white long-sleeve under his even looser black shirt; and for some unknown reason, he’s wearing a tinted eyeglass even if he’s inside the club.

_They really dress like normal teenagers these days huh..._

Tomoya looked down on his clothes. Black shirt and loose brown pants. _Wow_ , he’s surprisngly not different in that aspect, huh?

Tomoya stared forward when the lights dimmed, engulfing the club in darkness. Then suddenly, there were the beats of drums filling the air, followed by the heavy strums of guitars, and the enthusiastic movements on top of the small stage. And then someone started singing—and to his _utter shock_ , it was not Takahiro, the band’s vocalist who was singing—

_Toru can sing?! While playing the guitar?!_

Tomoya was so sure that his jaw was hanging wide open until the last song of the band ended that night. While Toru sang most of the lines in their first song— _P.P.S.H., was it?_ —Takahiro had stolen all of the drummer’s heart by singing the last line with the prettiest voice he had ever heard in his entire life.

 “ _Kono koe ga kimi no moto ni chantou todokeba ii no ni naa_...” as Takahiro’s soft, pleading voice reverberated through the hall; Tomoya felt all of his hairs stood on their ends. The vocalist made a small bow to the audience— _damn, his voice is too good_ —followed by a short silence. Tomoya hadn’t even fully absorbed the last song when the Alex started another rough arpeggio of rifts.

And then Takahiro was singing again—in full English!

_E-eh?!_

Though the vocalist’s pronunciation isn’t that great, Tomoya is already awed by his bravery to try singing one. Japanese people aren’t really that good in speaking English—the sound will usually come off _weirdly_ because of their language—so trying on singing an English song in front of a fully-Japanese audience is something to be admire!

_H-he’s really good!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The performance had long been over but Tomoya can still hear the sounds of the instruments—the guitars, the amateur beating of drums, the barely-heard bass, and Takahiro’s voice— _oh kami_ , Takahiro’s voice. Tomoya can stay in that corner, dazing like a _dreamy_ motherfucker as he reminisced one of the best nights of his life.

The band played a few more songs— _Rose Blood, JUST, Do You Know a Christmas_ —which almost made Tomoya to bawl and cry like a huge cry baby because Taka’s voice is really, _really_ beautiful singing slow, melodic ballads like that—followed by another slow song, similar to the previous song— _Moshimo Taiyou ga Nakunatta Toshitara_ —where he saw Toru playing the Harmonica for a while, before joining Takahiro into singing rapidly along the lyrics.

What—

_What the hell?!_

Why can Toru play the guitar and harmonica and sing in a single song?!

_He even has the undeniable good looks?!_

How is that even _possible?!_

Tomoya decided that Toru is really, _really loved and blessed_ by all the Shinto Gods for his stupid fortune. He also somewhat thought that this is probably why he is considered the leader—for being reliable and talented as hell. While Tomoya...

The song ended with a huge applause from the audience. Takahiro made a small talk, saying that the next song would be their last and everyone should listen to it— _Nichijou Evolution_ , was it? The band played to the top of their energies, with Taka and Toru singing and jumping around like hyperactive kids on stage. The lights behind them were blinking along their every beats and Tomoya couldn’t take even a moment away from that sight because this is—

That was the sight he’s been _dreaming_ , he’s been _craving for_.

The _ideal band_ he’s been wanting to form long before he left for Tokyo.

The band—those guys we’re really _passionate_ and serious on what they’re doing. Despite being a bunch of high-school students ( _and graduates_ ), they’re slowly paving their road towards the mainstream Japanese music with so much passion that _it hurts_ Tomoya just by looking at them.

Before going for tonight’s performance, Tomoya is already _halfway_ on rejecting the band’s offer—because even if he wanted their company, he still has his own band to be loyal to. His friends are all here in Tokyo and leaving them would be a huge blow to his conscience but— ** _but_** when he saw Takahiro and everyone started performing, Tomoya can feel his resolve crumbling into tiny, pieces in an instant.

_I don’t know what to do anymore..._

He sighed, tears forming stubbornly in the corner of his eyes, and quietly left the live house with a much heavier feeling in his chest and a more confused mind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Why are you not dressed for the winter again?!” Taka’s high-pitched, and _totally_ annoyed voice filled the back stage of the club as he pointed an accusatory finger towards their leader’s clothed chest. He’s been telling Toru-san since, _what,_ a year ago to dress appropriately during the cold season and did he obeyed? No!

Toru-san didn’t listened to him and did just the _exact opposite_ of it—leaving the vocalist in a pissed off mood even if they just finished their performance for tonight.

“ _Da-ka-ra,”_ Toru-san said—patiently, as if he’s talking to a _mentally challenged_ child—, “I’ll just change before leaving—,”

“What if you get sick again, huh?!” Taka continued on rambling, ignoring the rhythm guitarist’s attempt to defend himself, “Who would fucking sing and play the harmonica, _dammit_!”

“That’s what you’re concerned of, Mori-chan?!” Alex asked in disbelief at their vocalist’s _rather twisted_ logic.

“Where the fuck else would I be concerned about?” he moodily snapped.

Toru made an unsatisfied face at that but made no further comments. He probably knows that it’s better to let Taka bitch out like a _worried mother_ than to respond sarcastically at him. Sometimes—well, most of the times, actually—he can’t understand Taka. Sure, he’s adorable and cute but he’s also annoying at times, especially like at these kinds of moments.

But that’s one of his _charms_ , eh?

Toru nodded in contentment at his own thoughts before immersing himself in daydreams to _ignore_ the ranting vocalist beside him.

Meanwhile, Ryota made his way towards his seniors with a bottle of water in his hand. He blinked at the scene he arrived to—a fuming Mori-chan, a totally _amused_ Alex-senpai, and a _dozing-off_ Toru-nii.

_Eh, here they go again..._ he thought, _being weird and stuffs._

Maybe he shouldn’t tell them that he saw Tomo-kun leaving the club earlier or else, Toru-nii would definitely go after the drummer’s ass this _instant._ Ryota nodded, because for once, he thought of a good idea that will not result to _persuasive stalking and more fuming_ , to himself as he joined the other three.

_I guess, I’ll just let them to act like weirdos for a few more minutes..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The performance included in here was based from a very oooooold video of the band (I think it's in 2005? or 2006?) back when Koyanagi Yu was still their drummer. You can found it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZu5eF93HMk. Thanks to whoever recorded and uploaded it XD
> 
> -Oh and there's also Takeru fan-boying again. This is totally fictitious buuuut the actor said that he'd been watching/listening to OOR since their demo album right?
> 
> -I want to make a special connection between the three (Tomoya, Alex and Ryota) since they're somewhat close to each other even in their younger years and that's probably because of baseball?
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways! Thank you for reading~! Comments and/or suggestions are well-appreciated.


	39. Kaimu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another boring chapter with almost no toruka moment.
> 
> "This is the nothingness that we exist in  
> Where people are all talk and only concerned about themselves  
> If that's the case then no matter what is said  
> Nothing will ever change; let's stop these children's games"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm screaming while watching Taka's IG Live while shopping for Toru's birthday gift last week. OMFG. My poor heart.
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is still not, and will never be, mine.

Tomoya didn’t showed up for his band’s practice the next day. This time, he didn’t brought up any excuses. He just told them, over the phone, and with a crying, _quivering_ voice that he’s not really in the shape to play the drums _anymore_.

But he _didn’t_ said that he’ll quit.

He _couldn’t._

_I couldn’t..._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Who the _fuck?_!”

Taka shoved all the sheets that were previously wrapped around his body when he heard someone harassing his door bell as if there’s no tomorrow. He just went to bed and an hour of sleep isn’t really great for his awful mood so he’s _really intent_ on killing the person behind the door—which is _definitely_ Toru-san because _who else_ would barge and waltz into his house as if he owns it other than the _gachapin-faced_ band leader?!

But why would he bother to ring the bell when he already has— _what_ —a _shit-ton_ of duplicates of Taka’s keys?

_Probably just to piss the hell out of me_ , Taka blandly thought as he padded onto the cold floor towards the door. He fling it open, and opened his mouth to start screaming his head off to the rhythm guitarist so imagine his _shock and surprise_ when instead of a grinning Toru-san, he saw a _timid-looking_ , and somewhat _shaking_ Tomoya.

“U-uh,” the older awkwardly shuffled on his feet as Taka stared at him with confused eyes, “I heard that your miso soup is _great_. I was hoping If I can have some?” then he flashed his innocent and tooth-rotting smile, making Taka _swallow_ all the profanities he’s about to spew out.

...

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ah! This is good!” Tomoya declared with a huge grin on his lips when he put down his bowl of miso soup on the table, “This is _super_ good!” he said again, before diving into his food.

Taka watched it all, cradling his chin with a hand. To say that he’s been shocked to his core when he saw a sniffling Tomoya in front of his door earlier is a huge _motherfucking understatement_. What’s shocked him more was when the teen suddenly asked about his miso soup as if he didn’t just _subtly demanded_ Taka to cook for him in the middle of the night.

_I mean, sure I want him to join our band but is he supposed to be demanding like that?!_

But he sure looks like he’s _starving_ , huh...

Taka eyed the other teen who’s devouring the rice and miso soup as if he hasn’t eaten for _years._ As someone who does the cooking all this time, he should be flattered by the drummer’s words of appreciation for the meal but Taka doesn’t give a _flying fuck_ about that. He’s more concerned about the tight smile on Tomoya’s face and those red-rimmed eyes like...like he’s been _crying all these times_.

“ _Ano saa,_ Tomoya,” Taka started as he stared at the cup of green tea in front of him, “You’re not here just to eat my miso soup, right?”

Tomoya looked up from his bowl and blinked owlishly at Taka, “I _am_.”

“ _Uso_!”

“Eh?!” Tomoya looked taken aback at his declaration, “But it’s true! Ryota said that your miso soup is _to die for so_ I went here for a taste!”

“Is that so...” Taka said through clenched teeth, mentally preventing himself from slapping the drummer’s head because only a _CERTIFIED IDIOT WOULD BARGE INTO MY UNIT JUST TO HAVE A TASTE OF MY MEAL GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT!_

But since Tomoya hasn’t really decided whether to join the band or not, Taka can’t really go slapping his dumb _bright-as-the-motherfucking-sunshine_ face. Even if his hands are _really_ itching to do so.

“I probably _look like_ an idiot to you,” Taka started as he threw a serious look at the drummer who silently went stiff as a rod on his seat, “But I’m pretty sensitive about these things. State your business or I’ll kick your sorry ass for waking me up in the middle of the night, Tomoya,” he threatened.

“ _Ehhhh~_ ” Tomoya made a soft whine of distress, like a puppy who’s being reprimanded by his master, “There’s really no—,”

“Is this about the band?” Taka pressed on—and _grinned inwardly_ when the drummer visibly flinched at the mention of their silly little group, “Is Toru-san following you around lately?”

“Eh?! _C-chigau_ —,”

“Then Ryota? Alex? I heard that they went to play baseball with you the other day—did they do something to—,”

“ _Mou_ , Taka-chan!” Tomoya snapped, making Taka blinked in disbelief— _he’s not really expecting the other teen to just blow up, well, in a rather feminine way like that_ —, “No one’s harassing me! It’s just that I can’t really stand my own home right now. I—,” he put the chopsticks over the rim of his now empty bowl and looked up at Taka with the most _helpless_ look he can pull off, “—I’m so conflicted. I really, _really_ want to join your band—,”

Taka’s face _instantly_ went bright at that as a huge, toothy grin formed on his lips when he heard that the drummer has the desire to join them—

“—but,” Taka’s grin instantly froze at the small, hesitant and almost _close-to-crying_ voice of Tomoya, “but I feel like...like I’m betraying my friends just by thinking about it! What—what should I do, Takahiro? _What should I do..._?”

...

Taka...

Taka has been so used to be the _one_ crying all the time— _bawling and sniffling like a mess every-damn-time_ —he was used to be the one being comforted by Toru-san almost a year now, _not the other way around._ There was a time when Ryota broke out like a dam, crying all his emotions and fears out to the band and Taka was the one who apparently comforted him—but that was a _one-time only thing_!

_I mean, I spit out curses like I’m breathing air! I can’t comfort someone without making them feel worse, dammit!_

So, when Tomoya suddenly looked at him with those glazed eyes and helpless look on his cute face, Taka’s _first instinct_ was to call Toru-san— _even if it’s in the middle of the night_ —and ask him to get the _fuck over_ here to comfort the crying drummer across him.

_Eh?! He’s crying?!_

_He’s crying, Toru-san!_

_What should I do?!_

“ _A-ano_ ,” Taka leaned over the table to reach the drummer’s shaking shoulder, “Let’s calm down and talk about this peacefully, ne? _Ne_?”

“But I’m already _too_ stressed!” Tomoya insisted, “I went to your performance last night and you guys are so _awesome_ on stage that it hurts just to watch you! I really wanted to be _up there_ and play behind everyone and listen to _you_ sing all day but I—I still have my friends! _My own band_!” he wailed before talking a suddenly hushed manner, “Do you— _do you_ know that I ditched the practice today, too?” he said, eyes growing wide as he probably realized the extent of his actions, “I’m... I’m _terrible_ aren’t I?”

Too?

_How...how long have you been enduring these then, Tomoya?_

But instead of reaching out again to comfort the bawling teenager and coddle him, Taka just huffed and crossed his arm over his chest in feigned annoyance, “Hai. You’re _indeed_ terrible, Tomoya.”

Taka can swear that he heard the drummer’s jaw hit the table with a loud _THUD_ at his statement. Well, he’s not really the type of person who _sugar-coats_ the things he wanted to say _. I mean, honesty is still the best policy, right?_

And if Tomoya wants to join them and be with Taka for most of his time, he sure as hell needs to get used with Taka’s attitude.

“E-eh?! That’s _harsh,_ Taka-chan!”

_Switching to Taka-chan now huh..._

“I mean, you’re just prolonging your distress by being indecisive about things,” Taka snorted, ignoring the still-gaping mouth of the drummer across him, “What are you? An idiot? A _masochist?_ ”

“What—,”

“You’re feeling down like that for days because you haven’t reach any decision to take, Tomoya. If you want to join us, tell them—,”

“But it’s not that easy!”

“—but it’s better than leaving them like that in the air!” Taka pressed on, eyeing Tomoya with narrowed gaze and look of disdain, “do you know why we don’t have a drummer till now? Toru-san kicked him out of the band months and months ago, and do you know why?”

Tomoya gulped—as if he’s watching a _thriller-suspense film_ —before furiously shaking his head, “N-no..?”

“That’s because he didn’t _showed_ up in our first live, Tomoya,” Taka said in a voice pure of disappointment, “That was our first performance in a live house and he didn’t showed his cowardly ass—he left us there, _hanging in the air_ , waiting for someone who would never even come, _do you_ —do you know how that felt?”

This time, the drummer didn’t shook his head in denial—instead, he looked down on the table, eyes wide and teary as he let the vocalist’s words sink into his confused little mind.

“He _could have_ ruined us permanently—you could’ve ruined your band permanently—,” Tomoya’s head snapped up at that, mouth opening to form any word to defend himself but Taka cut him off, “But he didn’t. He left us and gave us a chance to grow, to _get better_ , to learn from our mistakes and look for someone who would _fill his role_. If he hadn’t left and continued playing with us with his _half-assed_ enthusiasm, I... I don’t really think that we’d come this far.”

A thick, heavy tension filled Taka’s unit. Nobody spoke for a moment and aside from the soft drone of the heater, nothing else can be heard inside. Taka knows that he’s been spouting harsh words but come on— _let’s be real_ —you _can’t_ have two different things at the _same time_ the way you can’t have two girlfriends at once or _someshit._ And Tomoya is too _naive_ , too _foolish_ , too _pure_ to think that everything would come out fine even without him making a choice.

_But everything would be better if Toru-san is the one who’s pounding these shits to Tomoya, dammit!_

_Maybe I should call him now?_

“So...” Taka heard the drummer gulped audibly after a few minutes of absolute silence, “so you’re telling me that leaving them is the _best choice_ , Takahiro?”

Taka sighed. Well, that would be the best thing but looking at Tomoya’s distressed form, he decided that he would be better if he leaves the decision-making for tomorrow.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, pushing his chair away from the table before collecting the used dishes, “But if you’re gonna do it, _do it._ If not, _quit,_ ” he said, casting a serious look on the drummer’s wide eyes, “your friends doesn’t deserve your half-assed determination to play, anyways. I’ll wash the dishes and you go freshen up or something—,”

“But—,”

“Stay for the night,” Taka said with a tone of finality, sighing in relief when Tomoya slumped on his seat in defeat, “I don’t want you freezing over on your way home. Besides, it’s already late so...” he trailed off before padding towards the kitchen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka was feeding his fishes when Tomoya emerged from the bathroom wearing his pajama bottoms and shirt and the jacket that Toru _graciously_ gave him a few nights ago. Since his body is smaller—yet uhm, _slightly_ fatter— _are you happy now, Toru-san?!—_ than Tomoya’s petite form, his clothes were slightly larger than the drummer.

_Well, you can’t be really choosy, anyways so suck it up._

“A-are you sure that you’re gonna let me stay here for tonight, Takahiro?” the drummer fidgeted from his spot, “Aren’t you scared that I’m gonna rob you or murder you on your sleep?”

“Are you gonna rob me?”

“N-no!”

“Murder my sleeping ass?”

“No!” Tomoya hotly said. Taka rolled his eyes and moved away from the aquarium, “Then it’s fine. It’s not like you’re the first one who stayed at my unit for a sleep over anyways.”

“Does Toru slept in here too?”

“ _Gah_! Why would you even think that Toru-san had slept here before?!” he asked, fighting the blush that is quickly invading his face.

Tomoya padded towards him to look at the fishes, “Ah~! They’re cute!”

Takahiro wanted to smack him because _how can you even tell if a fish is cute or not?!!_ But he digressed. It’s _too late_ for bullying anyways.

“I wonder if they’ll taste good~?”

“WHAT.”

“And to answer your question,” Tomoya said, smiling up at him as if he didn’t just _cried a river_ a few minutes ago, “Toru acts like he owned this place. He’s also the only one who uhm, had the guts to enter your room without permission so I thought that he had already slept here, right?”

“Wrong,” Taka scowled— _wondering how can Tomoya be this perceptive yet indecisive at the same time_ —earning a surprised “Eh?!” from the drummer. “He didn’t slept here, but he did in my previous unit— _what_ — a year ago? He’s really set on following me around but there was a storm back then and all the train and bus companies stopped running so I allowed him to stay for the night,” he explained as he walked towards the only bed in the room.

Taka threw most of his old belongings so he doesn’t really have any extra mattress nor blankets for Tomoya to sleep on tonight...

_I guess we’ll have to share the bed, then?_

It will surely be a pain in the ass but Tomoya is so thin that he certainly won’t take too much space, ne?

Ah, Taka’s feeling so _gracious_ tonight. They’re not even that close yet and here he was, offering food and shelter— _and half of my bed_ —to an almost complete stranger _. Ah...the gods be better watching my acts of kindness or so I swear..._

“Ah,” Tomoya sighed behind him, “Toru’s really passionate, huh?”

“You bet he is,” he nodded and jumped on to the bed, “Come on, let’s sleep.”

Tomoya awkwardly looked at him, then at the bed where he’s currently sitting on, before looking back at Taka with a completely horrified look on his face, “W-where..?”

“Do you see any _other_ bed here, Tomoya?” Taka massaged the bridge of his nose as realization hits Tomoya like a _motherfucking wrecking ball_ , but much to Taka’s annoyance, the drummer just stayed rooted on his spot, gaping at Taka like a fish out of the water, “you’re gonna sleep here. Beside me.”

Tomoya couldn’t look _more_ horrified.

“You got problems with that?” Taka narrowed his sleepy eyes, silently giving _promises of a good beating and a cold morning without any warm breakfast_ which made Tomoya diving and scrambling under his blankets without uttering a single word of disagreement. Taka nodded in satisfaction as he dimmed the lights and went to his side of the bed— _I’m so fucking glad that I bought a large bed, dammit_ —and instantly went to a dreamless state of sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka sleepily put the last bowl of fried rice on the table and sat himself. He has been sleeping for only a few hours when his stomach rumbled like a fucking _dinosaur._ He cooked and is now about to start eating when he snapped his gaze forward—his eyes meeting the _heavily lidded eyes of Toru-san_. There, sitting across him was Toru-san—wearing his usual long-sleeve shirt and his hair rumpled by the outside breeze—looking, _smiling back at him as if he didn’t just barged into Taka’s unit without any given permission at all._

And to Taka’s horror, he even unconsciously prepared a set of food for the guitarist!

“ _Itada_ —,”

“The _fuck_ are _you_ doing here?!” he snapped, his fingers tightening their grip to the chopsticks he’s holding, “How do you even get inside?!”

A small, lazy smile made its way to Toru-san’s thin lips and just by that smirk, Taka felt foolish to even ask the question. _Hai, Toru-san have a shit-ton of duplicate keys remember? Sorry for even asking—_

_Eh?! That’s not even the point, dammit!_

“Whatever,” he relented and sighed before starting to eat—the teen across him took his sigh of ultimate defeat as a signal to start eating too—, “Just leave after you eat.  I have a lot of things to do today.”

Toru-san’s chopsticks stopped midway at that. He looked up at Taka with a questioning look on his eyes, “This _early?_ Where are you going?”

“What is _it_ to you?” he rudely snapped and was about to say a few more things when the guitarist shot him this _deadly glare_ that makes Taka want to shit _bricks_ and sweat _bullets_ just by the sheer intensity of it. Why is Toru-san even i _nterested_ with his schedule?! It’s not like Taka has the obligation to tell him his every move, right?

_I mean, only parents and lovers had the right to do that, ne?_

Right.

But that doesn’t take away this _nagging_ feeling that Taka should explain something— _anything_ —to the guitarist or Toru-san would _make sure_ of his death right there and then. He was about to speak and clear any _misunderstanding_ that’s definitely forming on the younger teen’s head—when _someone_ spoke from his left side.

“Maybe Mori-chan’s got a date,” a voice that suspiciously sounds like Alex said, “It’s almost new year after all.”

“Maybe he’s meeting his parents, Toru-nii?” _another one_ spoke—this time from his right side and obviously sounded like Ryota—making Taka’s vision instantly went _red_.

He slowly turned his head towards his right—sure, Ryota is there, casually munching on another bowl of fried rice—then to his left where Alex is drinking a steaming cup of green tea—before looking straight-forward, to the rhythm guitarist’s impassive face.

“The... ** _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”_** he screamed at the top of his lungs, making Ryota leaned back on his seat in fear— _stop clutching at my table wares, you idiot, they’re not gonna run away!—“_ What the hell are you _two_ doing in my house?!”

“Why not?” Alex coolly asked making Taka wants to fling all the dishes to his handsome face, “I mean, it’s _unfair_ that Toru always get the chance to eat your meals, Mori-chan~!”

“Unfair, _unfair_ ~!” Ryota repeated like a dumb parrot.

“That’s because I’m the leader,” Toru-san mumbled as he continued eating as if there’s no raging vocalist just a few feet away from him, “It’s only _natural._ ”

“It’s _not_ natural,” Taka said through clenched teeth before running his palm over his disgruntled face. He’s planning to take Tomoya out today— _just the two of them_ —and know more about him and his drumming style but these three had just ruined his plan by barging into his unit— _announced._

“Why are you all here in the first place? It’s too early to hang out, dammit!”

“I’m here for the _food_ ,” Toru-san shamelessly said.

“I’m here to _strengthen_ our bond,” Alex grinned. Taka _fling_ his chopsticks at him. “That’s dangerous, Mori-chan!”

“I will stab your eyes with them!” he screeched, eyeing the half-American with a _murderous_ intent.

“Ah, woke up at the _wrong side_ of bed, huh...” Alex— _the ever-oblivious Alex_ —probably wants to die young and dumb so he continued rambling about things that made Taka’s blood boil with anger or something.

“ _Mou_ , stop fightiiiing,” Ryota whined as he watched the vocalist leaned over the table to actually stab Alex-senpai with a chopstick, “I’m here to ask Mori-chan to live with me~”

Taka’s chopstick fell onto the hard table at that—as the other three members stared at Ryota as if he just _ate a huge dinosaur_ in front of them. While Taka and Alex froze on their spot, Toru was the first one to regain his senses and actually _said_ something.

“ _What the fuck_?!” he growled low, setting his chopsticks over his bowl of rice with a loud _clank!_ , “What did you say, Ryota? I think I’ve heard it wrong?”

Alex immediately made motions and mouthed something like “ _retract your statement, idiot! Toru’s gonna kick your ass for even thinking of asking Mori-chan out_!”

Taka, on the other hand, just stared on the bassist—his mouth wide open in shock as he processed what Ryota had just said.

Live with him?

_What?_

What the hell?

_Is Ryota high?!_

Then he noticed the slightly— _uhm, okay, the definitely_ —gloomy and murderous aura that’s currently surrounding their leader as he stared at his childhood friend ;like he’s planning to kill him in cold blood or something equally _terrifying_.

And _suicidal._ _I don’t even know why Toru-san is acting like a psychotic killer but damn, Ryota should definitely run for his life now!_

But Ryota— _despite Alex’s warnings and Toru-san’s killing aura_ —just brightly smiled at them before he explained, “Well, you’re graduating this March, ne, Toru-nii? You’ll be leaving the Amuse dorm so I thought that I would also move out! Then I’ll ask Mori-chan to live with me~!”

Alex instantly went _pale white_ at that _. You dumb fuck. You’re gonna be so dead._

“And why would you ask him?!” Toru-san’s deep voce cut through the tension-filled dining area, “Do you—do you **_li_** —,”

“ _Matte, matte, matte_ —,” Taka intervened before Toru-san can ask more embarrassing questions, “Why would you even think of moving out of the dorm? You’re not graduating until next next year, ne?”

“Ehhh,” Ryota pouted, “Toru-nii would be gone and I’ll be alone so I’ll also move out. Staying there isn’t mandatory or something anyways _sooo_ ,” he then face Taka and bowed, waist deep, as if he’s gonna ask the vocalist to marry him or something, “Please live with me when that time comes, Mori-chan!”

...

“Oh, shit,” Alex muttered when Toru suddenly stood up and was about to _tackle_ the youngest member of the band, “Calm _down_ , Toru!”

“ _Calm down_?” Toru heaved on his seat, “He’s trying to **_steal_** Ta—,” his mouth instantly went shut when he met Taka’s _questioning gaze_ , then Alex-senpai’s _amused grin_. He swallowed whatever he’s planning to say as his mouth formed a thin line in dissatisfaction.

Taka chose to ignore whatever the fuck Toru-san is fussing about. He stared at Ryota’s figure before answering with a cold, confident voice.

“No.”

“Eh?!” Ryota’s head snapped up at that before looking helplessly at him, “ _Nande?_! And you didn’t even think about it, Mori-chan!”

Taka heard Alex mutter something like “Thank fucking god” while Toru-san breathe a sigh of relief at his answer. _Those two are acting pretty weird, huh?_

“A _no_ is a _no_ , Ryota,” he nodded, “Because you’ll definitely just leave all the household chores to me!”

“But you cooks good meals, Mori-chan!” he insisted, making Taka want to smack his head for his idiocy, “Besides, you always clean Toru-nii’s room, right?!”

_Gah! Why are you always bringing up the things I’d do for Toru-san?!_

And to his horror, Toru-san crossed his arms over his chest and smirked smugly at his childhood friend, “It’s _only natural_ , Ryota,” he then glared viciously at the bassist, “So, _back the fuck off.”_

“Eh?! What did I do now?!”

“That’s for being an idiot this early,” Taka said before getting another pair of chopsticks—because he flung the one he’s using to Alex’s face earlier—, “Let’s just eat in peace now. Then go home afterwards, ne?”

“ _Ehhhhh_ ,” the three whined in unison at Taka’s orders but ate their meals nonetheless. Taka was glad that _no blood_ has been spilled onto his floor. Cleaning blood off the floor and wood would surely be a royal pain in the ass so he’s really really glad that everyone is finally eating their food calmly when Tomoya suddenly spoke.

“Is there food, Taka...hiro?” Tomoya sleepily asked as he moved out of Taka’s room, “I’m hungry...”

Everyone’s head snapped towards the direction of the drummer—their eyes widening at the sight of a totally _rumpled and adorable_ Tomoya. He’s standing there, his hair a mess like some fucking _bird’s nest,_ while he’s rubbing the sleep away from his eyes with a fist. Taka’s jacket is slipping from his shoulder suspiciously looking like a...like a “ _kare-shirt.”_

As usual, Toru-san was the first one to react. _Damn his ability to easily regain his shattered senses in a matter of seconds!_

“What the _fuck_ are you doing in his room!” Taka recoiled at the intensity of the leader’s voice as he pointed an accusing finger at the shocked drummer, “And why are you wearing his clothes?!”

“W-what’s happening?!” Tomoya stepped backwards in fear for his life or something especially when the once calm and _always chill-looking_ leader is now glaring at him as if he kicked his puppy or something, “What’s happening, Takahiro?”

“Ehrm...” Taka averted his gaze, it’s just the three of them acting like complete morons again...” _Maa, ma—_ ,”

“Mori-chan, you _traitor_!”

Everyone jumped back when Ryota suddenly stood and pointed an accusatory finger at the _shell-shocked_ vocalist, “You don’t want to live with me but you’re allowing Tomo-kun to live here?!”

“E _h_?!” Taka leaned back from the table to avoid getting his eye punctured by that offending finger, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“So, you’re already on _that_ stage, huh..?” Alex nodded thoughtfully on his spot.

“What _stage?_!”

“Explain this, Taka!” Toru-san demanded across him, “Where did he slept?! Don’t tell me—,”

“Where the fuck _else_ would he sleep?!” Taka retaliated, ignoring the _mortified_ look on the rhythm guitarist’s—and the amused whistling from Alex’s face. _Why is he even staring at me like—like he just caught his girlfriend sleeping with another man, huh?!_

“ _Jaa_!” Ryota said after thinking for a while, “Can I live here too, Mori-chan?!”

“WHAT.”

“You let Tomo-kun, ne? Then you’ll also let me live here, right?!” instead of begging Taka like a cute puppy, Ryota strangely looked like _a totally high_ teenager who’s forcing Taka to smoke weed or inhale cocaine or something, “We’re friends, right~?!”

_What the hell._

“Then, I’ll live here too!” Toru-san grouchily declared— _heck, he’s not even asking for Taka’s permission anymore!_ —, “Ryota ad Tomoya can sleep on the floor!”

“WHY ARE YOU _SUDDENLY_ DECIDING—,”

“Oh!” Alex raised a fist in the air, “This would definitely be fun! I’ll also live here then~!” he said before glancing towards the almost-exploding-like-a-volcano Taka, “Please take care of me, Mori-chan~!”

Taka was gripping the chopsticks with so much intensity that small, hairline cracks were already starting to form along the wood.

These...

_These fucking idiots—_

And probably just to piss the living daylights out of Taka, Ryota and Toru bowed deeply at him like he’s some sort of miracle-worker or Buddha or the fucking Messiah before loudly saying:

“Please take care of us~!”

_—I will fucking kill them—_

“So, uhm...” Tomoya unsurely said as he padded towards the dining table, eyeing the set of fried rice hungrily, “can I eat now?”

Taka’s chopsticks snapped in _half,_ the splinters exploding in various directions and effectively making the other four person in that room to fell into an awkward, _nervous_ silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I find it cute and adorable how Tomoya seems to run to Taka for support and comfort back then. This might be just my imagination, so yeah XD
> 
> -kare-shirt, for those who didn’t know, is the “boyfriend” shirt. You know, when girls wear their boyfriends’ larger clothes or someshit.
> 
> -Ryota asking Takahiro to leave with him is legit. I think it’s when he planned to have a room for himself in the Amuse dorm? It’s from the 2015.03.17 - ONE OK ROCK in Vogue Interview. Translations are not mine. It goes like this:
> 
> **Interviewer:** How do you all decide on something, when all of you have different opinions?   
>  **Taka:** "Maybe we are patient with each other but our opinions are usually similar. All of us are thinking about the band very deeply so we do not clash with each other that often."  
>  **Ryota:** "I have clashed with Taka once."  
>  **Taka:** "Really? When?"  
>  **Ryota:** "We were all used to live in a dorm so when I actually decided to get a room by myself, I felt very lonely. Then I asked Taka to live with me but he was like "NO WAY. I CAN'T."  
>  **Taka:** "But that is not anything to do with music! From living together in LA for our recordings, I realized I will be cooking, cleaning, and doing everything that is to do with housework if we   
>  lived together. This is why I didn’t want to live with him. I think it was a very correct decision that I made."
> 
>  
> 
> LOL Toru-san and your crazy reactions XD
> 
> Thank you for reading~!


	40. Break my Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3~!
> 
>  
> 
> And some lame Toruka in the end.
> 
> "I'll burn your skin so hard, desire in my hand"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won a free shirt yaaaaay~! I wonder when and where and how can I claim it~?
> 
> Anyways, this is the last part of Tomoya's shitty situation before joining the band. We're nearing the end hoooooo!!!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for the typos, incoherencies, and shitty attempt to make a good plot.

“Is it really okay to leave them like that?” Tomoya asked as he followed Taka in the busy streets of Shinjuku. After the breakfast—which turns out to be a complete _disaster_ because of multiple _misunderstandings_ —Taka finally blew his fuse out and _exploded_. He _demanded_ that everyone should clean his house and be early for their rehearsal for tonight or else, they will _never see_ the sunrise tomorrow.

The other three obeyed, albeit _reluctantly_ and probably because of fear of Taka’s _indoor slippers_ , while Taka dragged Tomoya to eat outside.

He really can’t understand the vocalist. One moment he’s calm and patient then the next, he’s snapping and ordering at everyone like he’s a _boss_ or something. He’s like a giant puzzle that Tomoya can’t solve.

_Ah, but that’s probably what makes Takahiro interesting, isn’t it?_

“They’re gonna be fine,” Taka shrugged as he weaved through the crowd, “Let’s buy presents for my family then we’ll have lunch after, ne?”

_Why are you even dragging me along?!_

“Isn’t Toru the one who’s supposed to go with you today?!” he complained as he remembered the sharp glares that the leader threw at him earlier.

“I’m pissed at him so he really should hide his face away from me or I’ll rip it to _pretty_ pieces.”

“Oh,” Tomoya blinked, “That’s _uhm_...”

“Don’t mind him,” Takahiro said as he stopped in front of a clothing shop—just by reading the label makes Tomoya’s eyes widen like the size of soccer balls—and inspected the displays behind the glass wall, “Knowing Toru-san, he’s probably _following_ us anyway.”

“Eh?!” Tomoya looked around, searching for the familiar scary face of the rhythm guitarist and sighed in relief when he found none, “He’d really do that?!”

“Do what?” Taka stepped into the shop with a huge grin, making the ladies fuss at him eagerly, “Stalking? That’s his specialty you know? So beware of him, Tomoya,” he warned, a creepy smile forming on his lips before he went further into the shop.

Tomoya shivered at that. He wanted to say that Takahiro himself is somewhat creepy in some ways but he stopped himself because who know how Takahiro would react?

_Besides, he’ll still treat me too lunch later so..._ he shrugged, and followed the vocalist around as he buy presents for his little brothers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Somewhere across the road, behind a lamp post._

“ _Gah!”_ Ryota slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, “Tomo-kun almost saw us!”

The older teens—Alex and Toru—stared at the visibly shaking form of their bassist. They’re both thinking that Ryota would _never_ be good in playing hide and seek because he looks like the kid who will easily give away his hiding spot because of _being too excited_ or someshit.

Alex sighed and put his hands on either side of his hip, “What are we even doing here, Leader-sama? If you want to stalk Mori-chan, then you really shouldn’t have brought us along?”

“I’m _not_ stalking Taka.”

“Sure,” Alex-senpai shook his head in exasperation, “Sure, Toru. _Sure_.”

“I’m not really stalking him _this time_!”

Alex-senpai arched an inquisitive brow art that, “This time..?”

“I just wanna make sure that he’s doing _a good job_ on recruiting Tomoya,” Toru huffed in irritation as he watched the two exits the clothing store. He can’t help but feel envious of that Tomoya—for being the one to accompany Taka in shopping today. It was supposed to be _him_ , dammit!

“Do you think Tomo-kun would join us, Toru-nii?” Ryota asked as he continued crouching behind the lamp post. Toru eyed his childhood friend for a moment before sighing and walking towards the direction where Taka headed to.

“As long as Taka treats him to food,” he solemnly nodded— _silently thanking the gods for gibing Taka a shit-ton of money to spend for Tomoya_ —, “Tomoya would definitely join us.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Recruiting Tomoya was one thing, but Taka being with Tomoya for three _consecutive_ days is another matter for Toru. He scowled, looking at the dark gray clouds hovering above him as if they gravely _offended him_ or something. He’s been hanging out in the back of the school gymnasium—his usual secret place where he smokes and spends most of his free time in school. Even though the weather is already freezing, he still spends his lunch breaks here because _why the fuck not?_

Besides, school will be over in a few days… _and I’ll be graduating just three months from now…_

Toru looked down on his indoor shoes which are slowly getting wet because of the snow. _Graduation, huh?_ That means that he should man up and leave the Amuse dormitory to try living on his own—like what Taka and Tomoya has been doing for the past years now.

_I wonder if Taka would allow me to live with him..?_

Sure, Taka refused to live with Ryota in fear of doing all the household chores but the vocalist wouldn’t have to worry about _those things_ if he lives with _Toru. I mean, I can do pretty much everything, well, except for cooking edible and delicious meals._

He can do the laundry, washing dishes and cleaning up the unit—which will be damn easy because Taka is tidy and loves orderliness as fuck— _just look at his fucking cabinet, every clothes were arranged based on their colors!—_ and Taka would only do the cooking! That’s like a _win-win situation_ for the both of them!

_But that also means that I would have to live with his constant nagging and bitching huh..?_

Toru sighed and looked up again, wondering when the fuck would Tomoya finally agree to join so he can have _more time_ with Takahiro again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Pace yourself!” Taka barked when Tomoya suddenly devour an entire bowl of ramen just after being served to them, “No one’s gonna steal your food away!”

Tomoya looked up at him and grinned sheepishly, “But this tastes damn good! And it’s _free_!” he said before focusing on eating his food like a starving man again.

Taka snorted and started eating too. This has been the third day he spends with the drummer. Tomoya would always wound up at his door— _in early mornings, mind you_ —demanding to be fed like a _perpetually-hungry_ child.  Taka thought that it’s a good thing—besides, Tomoya can eat all the food he can if he‘ll just join the band—to be able to break free of Toru-san’s constant companionship even for just a few days.

_I mean, Toru-san’s practically living with me but I still love hanging out with other people, mou!_

He can also understand Tomoya’s reluctance on staying in his own unit. He’s probably being plagued by thoughts of leaving his friends just to join ONE OK ROCK and having those thoughts while you’re alone in a completely silent house is _a huge, motherfucking pain in the ass_. Taka had gone through it— _young and alone_ —and he doesn’t want their future drummer to experience the same traumatic thing.

“Can…” he’s abruptly stopped from his musings when Tomoya’s shy voice filled his ears, “Can I have a second bowl, Taka-chan?"

Taka looked at the empty, shining-empty bowl in front of him. He ate it all up in just, _what, a few seconds?!_

“Hayai!”

Tomoya didn’t look embarrassed, not even for a bit. Instead, he grinned brightly as if he’s proud of his huge appetite, “Thanks!”

“That’s not a compliment, _mou!_ ” Taka sighed but ordered for another bowl of steaming ramen, nonetheless. This time, Tomoya took his time in eating and actually starts a conversation with Taka, like a proper guest should.

“ _Naa_ , Taka-chan,”

_Wow, he’s really talking to me like we’ve known each other for ages, huh?_

“What?”

“You’re not going home for New Year?” he asked, making Taka inwardly flinch at the topic of family, “Toru and Ryota seem to be planning on going to Osaka for the New Year. How about you?”

Taka can feel his hands slightly shaking at that. He’s not… he’s not really _comfortable_ with sharing stories about his past, especially with people he just met but if Tomoya would be staying to join their band…then…

_He’s older than me so maybe…just maybe…he can understand me even better?_

“I…” he swallowed the lump forming on his throat; “I’m not really in _good terms_ with my family these days so…” he trailed off, cringing as he waited for the looks of pity from the drummer. He’s used to those kinds of reactions—so imagine his surprise when nothing of those came, instead, Tomoya blinked at him in genuine confusion.

“Ehh?! What did _you_ do?!”

“Why did you instantly assumed that it’s my fault?!” he said, letting out an offended gasp at the older’s conclusion.

“Weeeell,” Tomoya drawled before pushing the half-empty bowl of ramen away, “I’ve seen your type in manga—,”

_My type?!_

“—the rich, spoiled kid who rebelled and wanted to stand on his own—,”

Taka felt like a gigantic arrow had struck his chest at that. What the hell, _is Tomoya an ESPER_?!

“—they usually say that the adults are wrong and they wanted to conquer the world, but in the end, they’re just a bunch of _immature_ youngsters, ne?” Tomoya tilted his head, “So what did you do? Why did you get kicked out of your house, Taka-chan?”

“I was not kicked out!” he snapped in humiliation of being compared to an immature youngster, “I ran away, okay? I can’t take them anymore so I… _yeah,_ I ran away from home…” he shrugged, ignoring Tomoya’s jaw which is currently hanging open in shock.

“Wah!” he exclaimed, “That’s cool! I thought that it’s only in the manga!”

“Heh…” Taka really, _really_ wants to slap away the smile from this teen’s _stupidly_ bright face.

“I bet you’re the _usual delinquent_ when you were a child!” Tomoya is now practically bouncing on his spot, “How old are you when you started singing?”

“Eh…” Taka scratched his cheek absent-mindedly as he recalled his dark, bitter past, “I wanted to be a singer as early as I can remember. I also wanted to be a comedian when I was young—,”

“Comedian, huh..?”

“—but when I told my father, he just ignored it,” he shrugged, noticing that Tomoya started eating again though his eyes are trained to Taka’s face the entire time, “I think when I was in elementary, a friend of mine—,”

“It’s nice that you have friends, Taka-chan~!”

Taka ignored the strong urge to punch this kid’s—even though he’s older than me—face at his unnecessary side comments.

“—lent me an audition magazine. He said that I should try it once, you know, for a hobby or something. My parents were also nagging at me that time—they said that I should study how to sing first before dreaming to be a singer. They’re also usually telling me that “ _you want to be a singer? You need to get attached to a Jimusho first and take singing lessons to be your foundation or else, you will be no good_ ,” he said, imitating the words his father had told him when he declared that he’ll enter the entertainment industry too.

His father was so against it, he had made his point loud and clear but Taka _wouldn’t have any of it_. He finally found something to do, something he’s sure that he can _enjoy_ doing, something that will pull him out of his cold, black and white world—and _no one’s gonna stop_ him from achieving it.

“So, you went to auditions?” Tomoya asked when he noticed that Taka had gone silent for a few seconds. Taka stared at him, not really sure what came into his mind to spill his guts out to someone he just met for a few days.

“ _Hai_ ,” he nodded and gripped his chopsticks a bit too tightly, “My parents are quite famous in the music world—,” the drummer’s eyes grew comically wide at that, “I don’t want to get accepted just because I’m related to them or something so I went to auditions using false names. It was nice at first but the agencies are not idiots like me, ne? They soon found out and I got a hell of a scolding from my father. It wasn’t nice and that started a shit-ton of arguments in our house. They— _my parents_ —sent out my resumes behind my back and one day, _someone_ finally called back.”

That was from Johnny’s but Tomoya didn’t have to know that specific detail. Tomoya who is gawking at him like a hawk, probably because of the shock from his revelations.

“What the hell?! Close your damn mouth or bugs will fly inside it!”

Tomoya obeyed like a puppy before staring at him with bright, shimmering eyes, “So you’re like, famous in the entertainment world, Taka-chan? How come I’ve never heard of you?”

“Uhm, _ahahahaha_ ,” Taka leaned back, laughing nervously, when Tomoya started scrutinizing him , as if he’s recalling where he had seen Taka before, “Probably because I was kicked out even before the Jimusho made their debut?”

_Ah.. the horrors of his young days…_

The rumors, the tabloid news, that _motherfucking girl_ who led to his demise and his dwindling performance in school.

“WAIT!” Taka jumped from his seat when Tomoya slapped his palms over the table to lean forward and take a really, _really_ close look at his face— _which is so damn uncomfortable and makes me want to punch you really hard, Tomoya, mou!_ —“I think I’ve seen you on TV before! You’re.. _you’re_ …”

Taka’s eyes widen in horror and embarrassment when he realized that Tomoya is probably— _no, definitely_ —gonna shout something _humiliating_ —

“YOU’RE IN NEWS!” Taka cringed at the mention of the boy band that sprung out of the Johnny’s Jimusho, “THE _PHANTOM_ NINTH MEMBER!” he screeched with his annoyingly high-pitched voice, “THE _PHANTOM NINTH MEMBER_!” he repeated, _LOUD_ , just to annoy the living daylights of Taka’s flustered form.

_Damn_ , he slids off his seat to hide from utter embarrassment, and actually prays for the ground to open up and just swallow him whole— _that_ or he’ll give Tomoya a beating of a lifetime for spouting shits inside his favourite ramen house.

“Shut the fuck up, _mou!_ ” he snapped, face burning red while Tomoya is still gaping at him like he’s the _Messiah or Buddha_ or another prophet or someone equally astonishing, “It’s all in the past, dammit!”

“But—,”

“Sit the fuck down or you’re not getting free meals from me anymore!” he threatened, making Tomoya choke and reluctantly sat his ass back on the chair.

“I can’t believe it!” he muttered, looking at Taka reverently, “You’re the ninth member who disappeared like Pluto!”

“ _Hai, Hai_ , enough of that, _gah_!”

Where did Tomoya even pulled those descriptions anyway?! _Phantom ninth member? Really?_ Does anyone even paid attention to him back then?

Tomoya leaned back on his seat, the bowl of Ramen left forgotten as he looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, “So, you went away, got kicked out of your house—,”

“I’m not kicked out!” he insisted, “I ran away, _dammit!_ ”

“—and then formed a band before leaving them and joining Toru’s band?”

Taka blinked at the sudden shift of topic. Well, not that he’s against it. He’s just quite surprised that aside from the over-reacting earlier, Tomoya didn’t made any more fuss about his past with the entertainment world. It’s like…like Tomoya’s sensitive enough to see that Taka is practically dying to get the attention away from his past-self so he immediately changed the course of their conversation.

_Huh… he’s quite more matured than I expected…_

“Eh…you can say that…” he said, trying to remember his exact train of thoughts back then, “I’ve lost everything— _my family, my future, my confidence_ —and yet I still believed that there’s something different that I would want to do in the future, not living under the shadows of my parents. I lived on my own, got some part time jobs to support myself, and joined a band where I could sing. We’re a small band—piano and guitar and vocal ballad-centered, cover band,” Taka said, a small, _reminiscent_ smile playing on his lips, “But I’ve never been happy in that. I felt like I’m only singing without passion, without any aim and people would recognize me as a previous idol. Our performances were really lame and more like an _overly enthusiastic_ rehearsal. I felt like my confidence isn’t really going up, and to be honest, I’m quite _ashamed_ of whatever I’ve been doing then, ne?”

“You’re ashamed of your singing voice…?”

Was he?

Taka felt quite unsure at that. He’s unsure if he’s shamed of the band, of his voice, or something else like…like…

“I wanted to face all the peoples I troubled back then,” he softly admitted—not seeing the look of admiration that Tomoya is pointedly giving him, “My parents, the people I’ve betrayed, my brothers—I wanted to show them that I’ve become _better_ , that I’m not a _helpless, rebellious brat_ they knew—I  wanted to prove myself to them but, **_but_** every time I sing in front of those people, I always asked myself _: This is it? Is this really the thing I wanted to do? Will this really make me get everything I lost back? Is this all I can do?”_

That’s why…

That’s why he’s really, _really_ thankful that Toru had shown up that day. Even if he proved to be a _persistent stalker_ , Toru had _forcefully_ pull him out of the darkness and showed him that there’s so, _so_ much more that this world can offer.

Toru-san had showed him that despite the darkness that constantly followed them, there’s always, _always_ gonna be light and that they can slowly, _but surely_ , reach it one day— _one sure step at a time._

“If…” he said, after a while of comfortable silence, “If Toru-san didn’t persuade me to join their band, I wonder how I’m doing right now?” he asked, more to himself than to Tomoya, “Maybe I’ll still be in that band—singing and staring at my shoes, swallowing the _shame and disappointment_ every damn time. Maybe I’ll still be living in my previous unit, alone and quietly wallowing in self-despair, or maybe… _maybe_ …” his eyes glazed at the thoughts of countless possibilities that might have happened if Toru-san wasn’t there that night of their first live, “Maybe I’ll be _dead_ —killing myself because I’m only a _lost cause_ , someone who can’t be helped anymore ne?”

“But you’re not,” Tomoya said, in a suddenly serious voice. Taka stared at him before blinking those morbid thoughts away, “Toru-san asked you to join and you did, ne, Takahiro?”

“ _Hai_ …” he nodded, like a lost puppy—wondering why he suddenly had this urge to just flip everything off and go _home_ where Toru-san is probably waiting for him. Home—he wants to go home and just sit side-by-side with the rhythm guitarist, to relish in the comfort of his company, without saying anything because words aren’t needed for these moments—just…

Toru-san.

_I need…_

“I’m…I’m really glad that I left the band,” he mumbled, looking completely lost in his thoughts, “I’m _really glad_ that I’ve met Toru-san…and everyone else. We left everything we’re aiming for behind—Toru-san and Ryota left their path as _dancers_ , Alex abandoned his dream of being a Hollywood actor— _no matter how absurd that sounds_ …for this band—just for this band...” he whispered the last part.

Tomoya looked at him for a long time before he sighed and sadly smiles, “I think I’ll be going back to my unit no`~!”

“E-eh?!” Taka frowned as he checks his wristwatch, “But it’s still early. We can still hangout in the arcades?”

Tomoya pouted at that suggestion, “But hearing your past struggles makes me wanna be alone and think of… _stuffs_.”

“Like what?”

“Like…I dunno,” the drummer shrugged helplessly, “I think you’re right—,”

_Hpmh! I’m always right!_

“—that I’ve been dragging this leaving the band to join you thing after all. I want this to end too, it’s not a nice feeling anyways so…”

Taka’s face visibly lit up at that, “You’re gonna join us now?! _Fucking finally_!”

“Eh! I didn’t say that!” Taka felt his shoulders slumped at that, but Tomoya’s easy to make amends, “I want to think about this carefully. We’re not really the same, ne? I’ve been born in a nice, normal family so I can’t really understand what you’ve gone through but I think, I think we’re on the same boat—we’re both looking for _something that we want to do until the day we die_ , ne? Something where we can give our best for, ne?”

Taka…

Taka couldn’t think of any respond to that because his mind was so shocked to hear Tomoya spout those weird things! _Why is he so childish and mature all at the same time?!_

Taka snorted at that as he cradled his chin with an arm propped onto the table, “I’ve already found _mine,”_ he said, throwing a challenging side glance at the drummer, “how about you, Tomoya?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru bit his lip in frustration.

_Where the fuck is that midget?! Has he been hanging out with Tomoya today?!_

He growled at that. He’s been in Taka’s unit since morning— _thanks to his set of duplicate keys_ —and when he realized that the vocalist is probably out, he made himself home. He raided the fridge for leftovers and an unopened pudding— _I just hope that Taka won’t kill me for eating his pudding later_ —and starts playing loud music from the vocalist’s laptop.

He’s been here for what— _four hours_ —and Taka is still not showing his ass up. Goddammit, when would he come home? Toru’s growing bored as seconds ticked by!

_Maybe I should just look for him outside..?_

But just as Toru was standing from the couch, he heard the door open, and after letting a sigh of relief escape his lips, he plopped his ass down again and waited for a stream of rants and colourful words from the vocalist.

However, none of his usual loud coming-home shots were heard, instead, Takahiro slowly padded into the leaving room—looking down and exhausted and not even a _bit surprised nor agitated_ that Toru barged into his unit without his permission again. Just one look at the vocalist’s solemn face and Toru instantly knows that there’s something _wrong._

_What happened?_

“Taka—,” he started speaking but the vocalist ran towards him and practically _dove_ onto the couch he’s occupying— _what the hell_ —and laying his head on Toru’s lap _as if it’s the most normal thing to do in the world!_

While Taka is making himself comfortable lying on Toru’s lap like that, the rhythm guitarist, on the other hand, is starting to hyperventilate because _WHY IS INITIAITING SUDDEN CONTACT?! He’s not even drunk nor sick in the first place?! What happened? Is this really Taka?! What if some aliens came and abducted his Takahiro and replace him a docile, meek impostor?! And why am I even making up conspiracy theories about aliens like Alex-senpai?!_

“Ah!” Taka groaned as he faced Toru’s stomach, hiding his face from his view, “Opening up to others is such a pain the ass!” he said, his voice somewhat getting muffled by Toru’s sweater.

So, something _did_ happen.

Toru looked down and debated on running his fingers through the dark, spiky locks of their vocalist. Something happened while he’s out and it definitely upsets Taka, he mused and gently combed the soft hair with his fingers. To his surprise— _and utter delight_ —Taka sighed in contentment and even subtly nuzzled his hand, like a _cat_ being petted on his lap. Taka smells like the winter air, like the snow, and what was that? _Ramen?_

_Taka smells like ramen?_

“Did…” he gulped, “Did you went to the ramen shop _again_? I thought you said you’re not gonna get fat ag—,” he felt all of his oxygen puff out of his mouth when Taka landed a punch on his innocent stomach while muttering “I’m _not_ fat, dammit!”

“That hurts!” he complained, his hand stopping the petting motions to force Taka to look up at him—but no, the vocalist refused and even had the audacity to _hug_ Toru’s midsection to avoid showing his probably pouting face, “Look at _me_ , dammit!”

“No!” he refused, “I don’t wanna look at your _gachapin_ face!”

_Why is he bringing up that dinosaur again?!_

“Then, just tell me what upsets you?” he sighed, adapting a softer tone of voice and starting to caress the vocalist’s back soothingly—to comfort him and tell him that he’s here, and _will always_ be here for Taka—, “What happened? Are you alright? Wait, did Tomoya refused..?”

Taka flinched at the mention of their future drummer. It took a short while before he spoke again, “He said that he’ll think about it…”

“Uh-huh,” Toru nodded, frowning when the vocalist didn’t elaborate further, “So, what’s wrong? This isn’t like you, Taka. You’re only acting like this after… _after_ …” Toru’s eyes slowly widened at the conclusion he’s reaching.

He had seen this _reaction_ , this _atmosphere_ around Taka many times— _all the time_ when he’s reluctantly talking about his dark past. Taka looks somber and gloomy whenever he talks of his _mistakes_ , his _family_ , his _stupidity_ …like…

Like _now…_

_Ah…you silly, silly brat._

Toru sighed and looked over the window, watching the relentless falling of snow outside. He knows that talking to Taka in this state would not make any difference. He thought that the vocalist had outgrown this phase of himself but he still _feel insecure and without confidence_ sometimes, huh?

_Aren’t we all?_

But Toru is glad— _no, not because Taka is falling apart again_ —because instead of _running away_ and hiding his feelings away, Takahiro is _here_ —he came running to Toru’s arms in search of _comfort_ , of _solace_ , of _sanctuary_. And that makes him happy. _Seriously._

Even if he looks like an impassive, constipated dinosaur on the outside.

And it also makes his heart beat faster—like _a fucking drum_ during a festival!

_Damn butterflies in his stomach—doing their flying stunts again!_

“Huh…” Toru drawled afterwards, leaning back to the couch— _because Taka would surely fall asleep on his lap like this sooner or later_ —, “You sure are a brave one huh. Telling Tomoya about all those stuffs…” he said, definitely sure that Taka had spilled all of his past to the drummer. It’s quite frustrating, to know that _he’s not the only one_ who knows about Taka’s past anymore—but he’s just glad their vocalist is finally opening up to others.

_I just hope that he will not act like this in front of others, though._

“Of course I’m brave,” Taka sleepily mumbled afterwards before snapping like the damn tyrant he is, “Now, shut the fuck up and let me sleep in peace, dammit!”

Toru smirked at the moody shits of their vocalist but made no comment afterwards. He just made a noncommittal hum and proceeds on petting Taka’s now-ruffled hair. No more words were spoken after that because _why_ would they bother to speak, when they already have each other’s company at the moment?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Taka arranging his clothes according to their colors is somewhat legit. I remembered reading it from somewhere before.  
> -The part about the things Taka's parents have done back then was all canon, as taken from the **cd data 5/15--6/14, 2008: TAKA Personal Interview**. All credits goes to Nanagami-san who posted the translation in 2008.  
>  -Jimusho refers to Johnny's Entertainment or Johnny's Jimusho.
> 
> Thanks for reading~!


	41. Doppelgänger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomoya's decision.
> 
>  
> 
> "I wanna go wanna go  
> there's not even a stop until that place, you're a stranger  
> I'm alone I'm alone  
> even so I think I'm just a blur  
> there's just one power that does that  
> there's nothing except for that  
> what I hear and what I play, they're everything in my heart  
> can't you see that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set at the transition of year 2006 and 2007, by the way.
> 
>  
> 
> The holiday season is making me stressed as fuck with all the family reunions and stuffs. I can already feel the judging eyes of my Aunts and cousins.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for always checking for updates!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously.

Today is the _day._

Tomoya bounced his feet animatedly against the cold, wooden floor of the studio where his band usually practices. He made sure that he’s the first one to come today, even if he had to wake up so _goddamned_ early in the morning and run through the streets in the cold, pre-dawn air.

He had to be the first to gather enough courage— _and time to think of a good script_ —before his band mates would come because _today is the day_ —the day that he’s gonna tell everyone his resolve.

After talking to Takahiro yesterday, he finally realized that this band— _ONE OK ROCK_ —is the shape of band he’s been always looking for. Sure, he can still play drums for his friends but just by knowing the fact that he’s not doing it _for_ ONE OK ROCK—that he’s not doing it _with_ ONE OK ROCK makes him frustrated as hell.

He realized that his drums is not beating for this band _anymore._

It’s yearning— _pleading_ —to be played, to be heard along Ryota’s _bass,_ Toru and Alex’s _guitars_ and behind Takahiro’s _powerful_ voice.

He realized that he found his place now— _that he found something he’ll do for the rest of his life_ —and it is being a member of ONE OK ROCK—even if it costs his relationship within his friends.

_Besides, Takahiro had said it himself, ne?_

_That I’m just hurting everyone by being indecisive in this matter!_

So this time, Tomoya huffed his chest out in confidence as he stared at the door of the studio, _I’m gonna man up and tell it to them!_

Right!

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Well, _as usual_ , that has been totally easier said than done.

Tomoya was full of spirit, of enthusiasm and determination just a few minutes ago but when his childhood friends started to filter through the room, he suddenly felt nervous as _fuck._ _I mean, they immediately went to Tomoya’s spot and ask him about his health and well-being!_

“You’re not going into rehearsals anymore, Kan-chan!” one said as he put the strap of his guitar over his shoulder. Tomoya inwardly cringed at that. While his friends are worrying over him, where was he?

_Ah, right._

Inside Takahiro’s unit, eating the _most delicious_ curry he’d ever had in his damn life.

“You’re not getting harassed by the Tokyo folks, right?”

“Ehm…” Tomoya had to avert his eyes to avoid the confused and worried looks that everyone is throwing at his direction. _Dammit, now I’m feeling guilty!_

And nervous!

_A-am I really ready to leave these guys?!_

They have been together since middle school and high school, looking up at the starry Hyogo skies and _sharing_ the same dreams. They’ve been practically a _family_ and Tomoya…can he really abandon these great guys just to…to…

“So, why did you go _MIA_ these past few days?” the leader asked him, his gentle face looking down at Tomoya, silently urging him to speak and spill his guts out. Tomoya stared _helplessly_ up at him, tears slowly forming at the corner of his eyes as his hands started to shake furiously in nervousness.

“I—a-about that, I—,”

“Hmmm?”

Tomoya felt a lump forming won into his throat when everyone gathered around him. They’re obviously worried because their little drummer is practically emitting _waves after waves_ of distress—and Tomoya can’t stand those looks.

_I’m about to leave the band, dammit!_

_Don’t look at me like that!_

Don’t…

_“I’m going to Tokyo!”_

_“Let’s do it together, let’s form a band in Tokyo!”_

And Tomoya can’t fucking hold it anymore—he burst into tears like the pathetic _wuss_ he is without even saying what he wanted to say. As expected, everyone cooed and coddled him for suddenly breaking down into tears.

“Oi, what happened?!”

“Are you alright?!”

“Eh?! Why are you crying—wait, _do you want some candy or shits_?!” the leader panicked for a moment before he hastily searched his pockets for candies or any food stuff that he believes Tomoya need at the moment.

Tomoya cried even _harder_ at that.

“I—I can’t handle it anymore!” he wailed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “I—I’m sorry—I’m really, _really_ sorry guys—!”

Everyone stopped for a moment—looking confused as hell because their drummer suddenly bawled like a _bullied child_ and is now apologizing for something they know shit about—before peering worriedly at Tomoya. He’s been always the one to motivate and cheer up their small band so him acting like a kicked puppy is totally weirding everyone out.

The leader frowned and kneeled beside the stool where Tomoya is sitting and put an arm on the drummer’s shoulder, “Hey, _hey,_ ” he said with his gentle voice, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did someone threaten you?”

Tomoya sniffled as his tears went rolling on his cheeks like damn waterfalls, “N-no.”

_Just fucking tell them already!_

_Look, you’re making everyone worry!_

“That’s good,” the leader breathe a sigh of relief before asking again, “Then why on earth are you crying like that? What’s wrong? Tell us, ne?”

“I—I—,” Tomoya bit his lip in frustration as he desperately pull his shits together, “I’ve been invited to be a drummer of another band and I really, _really_ want to do band with them!” he half-shouted, half-stammered out.

Tomoya closed his eyes and winced at the sudden silence that filled their usually loud studio.

_There it is!_

He had gone and said it!

Everyone would hate him now! Everything would change now! But amidst all those _turmoil and fears,_ Tomoya felt somewhat glad that finally— _fucking finally_ —he had said it out loud. Consequences be _damned_ , he’s happy that he had the guts to actually tell everyone what he’s been desperately trying to say these past few days.

“Oh?” Tomoya cracked a red-rimmed eyes open at the relieved voice of their leader, here it is.

_Here it is! The curse! The spiteful words!_

Tomoya had to inwardly brace himself and his fragile heart in preparation for the onslaught of angry words and insults and more guilt-tripping from everyone, when the leader spoke the things he had not expected them to say.

“Isn’t that great?”

_Eh?_

Tomoya’s eyes shot wide open at that as his jaws flew hanging open in shock. What does leader mean—

“Whoah, Kan-chan is getting famous huh~!” the guitarist mused, without trace of malice nor sarcasm on his voice. The bassist grinned at them, “That’s because he has awesome drumming skills! I bet that more bands would go running after his ass ‘cause of his skills!”

_M-my ass?!_

_Why are we suddenly talking about my ass?!_

_And more importantly—_

“Y-you’re not angry?!” he asked in bewilderment as everyone continued laughing and making comments about his god-like drumming skills and some more shits. Everyone looked at him as if he just sad a very, very corny joke.

“What, why _would_ we be?”

Tomoya gulped at that. He knows that he’s somewhat an idiot, but he really expected everyone to be bumper than him, at least in this matter.

“I just said that I want to play for _ANOTHER_ band,” he said, emphasizing the word ‘another’ to make it clear to everyone, “and I might _leave OUR_ band because of it!”

The leader tilted his head at him in amusement, “Hmmm, so..?”

“I—!” Tomoya felt his chest painfully clenched at that. What if everyone is thinking that he’s just making up stories? What if everyone is not taking him seriously? Somehow, Tomoya felt quite frustrated and slighlty offended at that, “I’m serious! I’ve met them and hang out with them and they’re great people— _n-not that I’m saying that you’re not, you’re really great too, ne?!”_ he desperately explained, earning a bunch of amused looks and a bunch of “ _awwws_ ~!”” from everyone, “And then I went to see their live a f-few nights ago and I’m really overwhelmed with their passion in performing! I—I really, r _eally_ want to be a member but…but…”

_I’m scared of leaving you._

_I’m scared of leaving everyone and everything behind._

_I’m scared that I’m making the wrong choice._

_I’m scared…_

He wanted to say those things—he wanted to cry all those things out but he can’t so he just sobbed all of those feelings. It is overwhelming and it feels like his chest would explode any moment from now but even having those thoughts practically screaming in his head, he can still hear Takahiro’s voice— _loud and clear_ —

“ _I’m glad that I made that choice. Even if it turns out bad, I will just tell myself that at least I tried, ne?”_

—and those words became his _anchor,_ his _strength_ , his _motivation_ to go through all this mess.

“Hey!” the leader jokingly snapped at him, “You’re crying because of that?! What are you, four?!”

“Bu—but—,”

“Look, Kan-chan,” the leader softly said, making Tomoya stared at him with blurry vision, “We’re all dumb but we’re not blind to see that this band isn’t going any further ne?”

What.

His utter disbelief was probably written all over his face because the leader instantly backtracked with his statement, “I mean, we can all see that we’re not doing well, that the band is not doing well, and sooner or later, we’ll have to disband—,”

“What—‘,”

“Shhh, shhh, shhh!” he hushed the bawling drummer, “So we’re kinda glad that someone, other than us, had finally noticed your exceptional drumming skills yeah? That someone is ready to catch you if we all fall apart one of these days, ne?”

_W-what do you mean—_

The bassist scratched the back of his head nervously, “He means that we think that we’re holding you back with our lameness—,”

“You’re not—,” he tried to argue but a sharp look from the bassist made his mouth instantly shut up.

“You’re good— _too good actually_ —to just waste your talent by playing with a band that is not selling well,” the leader finished, affectionately ruffling the drummer’s hair, “Just go, and find your place here in Tokyo, hmmm?”

Tomoya…

Tomoya just stared at them—stared at the faces that has been with him _through the years_. The people whom he _started_ this band with, the people he _laughed, cried, and shared their youthful hopes with_ , the people who are the reason why he went to the scary place called Tokyo—they are all smiling down at him, urging him to move forward, encouraging him to take the first steps towards another band.

And Tomoya…

He just bawled like the huge cry-baby he was.

“ _Uwaaaah!!!”_ he snivelled, clutching the leader’s clothes for strength to prevent himself from falling face-first onto the floor, “T-thank you! I’m sorry—I’m so sorry wah!”

“Hey, don’t cry!” he snapped, pulling Tomoya away to prevent his clothes from getting wet, “I said, don’t cry mou! It’s not like we’re not gonna see each other anymore, ne?”

“Thank— _hic!_ —you,” he sniffled, looking up at everyone with huge, glassy eyes, “I’m g-glad that I have you a-as my friends!”

Everyone stared at his crying face for a moment—probably thinking that the drummer looks quite feminine like that—before grinning and hardly patting him on his back, “ _Mou_! We know so stop crying like a baby. Let’s just eat out, my treat. You love food, yeah?”

Tomoya furiously nodded, his stomach answering with a loud, _shameless_ rumble, making everyone burst out laughing.

_Ah, Takahiro, look._

_It went quite well, doesn’t it?_

Tomoya might have been just imagining it, but that time— _when everyone is patting his back_ —it feels like they’re actually gently _pushing him away_ , sending him off… towards the unknown future.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takahiro has been staring at the monitor of his laptop for a long time when his phone buzzed out of the sudden. Tonight is the New Year ’s Eve and just like the other year, everyone is out to go back into their hometown and spend time with their family. Taka knows that it’s _immature_ but he still somehow felt envious of his friends’ good relationship with their respective families. They all have a warm, welcoming home to return to and a caring family to embrace them while all Taka got is _a pair of fish_ and this soft _Doraemon plush toy_ to spend the holidays with.

_Well, I could just go out with some fans but girls are so uhm…scary these days so I guess it’s out of the question?_

Besides, he’s somewhat waiting for a _certain someone’s_ message tonight so instead of partying until morning and flirting with young girls in some random clubs, Taka decided to spent the transition of the year in his unit— _alone._

So when his phone— _finally_ —buzzed, he almost practically dive for it, expecting that it was a call from the rhythm guitarist—

“Hey, Takahiro! Happy New Year!”

—only to hear Tomoya’s cheery as fuck voice on the other line. He disappointedly glanced at the wall clock, realizing that it’s almost past midnight and that motherfucking guitarist hasn’t messaged nor called him—

“Same to you,” he moodily said. Tomoya probably felt his gloomy aura even beyond the line.

“Eh?! What did I do now?!”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, hugging the blue cat stuff toy closer, “I’m just not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.”

“Uh…including me...?”

“Yeah,” he bluntly responded, not knowing why he’s getting _irritated_ just because Toru-san didn’t bother to check up on him, “So state your fucking business before I hang up this call.”

“It’s the New Year and you’re so harsh—,”

“What was that?!”

“N-nothing!” Taka can imagine Tomoya furiously shaking his head in denial, “I said nothing!”

“So what? Are we gonna talk like this for hours or—,”

“I told the band—!” Tomoya suddenly blurted out in a soft, nervous voice that made Taka’s eyes wide with surprise. Does that means that he have finally reached a decision?

Now, Taka is starting to feel nervous because what if the band took it bad? What if Tomoya realized that his friends are more important than starting a new chapter of his life with ONE OK ROCK? What if Tomoya would reject him—them—just at the start of a brand new year?

_Psssh_ , he snorted, what a nice way to start the year.

“…and?”

“And they accepted it like _nothing!_ ” Tomoya said, “I mean, they’re _actually glad_ that I’m leaving!”

“What the fuck.”

“N-not in the wrong way! They were thinking that I’m spoiling my skills and talent by staying with them so they thought that i6t’s nice that I can play with others who appreciates my drumming skills! They’re not mad at all!”

Taka’s face instantly soften at that. He can feel all the tension leaving his body the moment Tomoya said that everything went fine. He just wish that Toru-san is here, beside him, so he can _SLAP HIS VICTORY OVER HIS ANNOYINGLY HANDSOME FACE._

_Hah! Take that Toru-san!_

_I managed to recruit Tomoya even without stalking him, you stalking piece of shit!_

_Hah!_

Too bad, Toru-san is not here. _Damn._

“S-so,” he heard Tomoya gulped nervously, “Is it alright, I mean—am I still welcome to join the band..?”

Just to make him _feel shit_ , Taka grinned evilly.

“What if I say no?”

“E-eh?! B-but—,”

_Ah! You’re easily fooled, you idiot!_

“ _Ano nee_ ,” Taka said in a teasing, sing-sang manner, “You really _took your sweet time_ in deciding so I thought that we don’ need someone as _indecisive_ as you—,”

“ _C-chotto matte_ —y-you mean, I left everything for—for nothing—,” Taka should really, _really_ stop toying with the older’s feeling but there’s something with Tomoya’s freaking out voice that really makes him somewhat, uh _, encouraged_ to tease and bully him more.

“So, we asked another drummer to join us!” he declared, a full grin forming on his lips as he listen to the drummer’s laboured breathing.

“E-eh!?” Tomoya gasped and repeated, just to be sure, “Eh?!”

And then, a sound suspiciously close to crying can be heard. Taka grinned evilly at that. Oh, he ‘ll _totally enjoy_ bullying this kid— _although he’s older than Takahiro_ —from now on!

After a minute of quite snivelling and muttering, Taka get annoyed with Tomoya’s high-pitched voice and wailing so he finally snapped, “I’m just kidding, you idiot!”

“E-eh?!”

“Is _Eh_ all you can say?!”

“B-but you said—,”

“Of course,” he scowled, wondering how dumb this man can be, “you’re still welcome _dumbass,_ besides, if you didn’t join us this year, Toru-san would definitely go stalking you the next days, seriously.”

“WHAT.”

“It just means that you’re already important on us,” he seriously said, earning a gasp of disbelief from the drummer, “You will be our drummer from now on, so please, take care of us, ne?”

There was a long, awkward silence after that. Taka can hear the faint sniffling and he noise of the crowd around the drummer but he didn’t make any comment on that. Tomoya is probably back in Hyogo right now—with his friends, with his family.

“H-hai,” Tomoya finally answered after a long while, “P-please take care of me, too!”

_That goes without saying, aho._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka dropped the call after that. He’s still feeling down but talking to Tomoya somewhat eased the heavy feeling within his chest. Finally, the band is _complet_ e. Finally, they can aim _higher,_ dream _bigger_ , and create _better_ music from now on.

Finally…for the first time after entering the entertainment world, Taka can look _forward_ for the coming year.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Takahiro woke up just before the dawn with 54 messages and 61 missed call— _all from Toru-san._

_W-what the hell?!_

He blearily opened all the messages that contains something like:

**“answer the phone”**

_Wow. Demanding much?_

**“where the hell are you?”**

_Uhmm…in my house?_

**“did you passed out in some alley”**

_Why would I—?!_

**“ANSWER THE PHONE OI”**

_All caps? Really, Toru-san?_

**“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU”**

_I’ll also kill you for calling when I’m asleep, asshole!_

**“seriously, I’m getting worried...”**

_Uh…huh..?_

**“Are you still alive???”**

_What’s with the sudden change in mood?!_

**“Did the aliens abducted you?!”**

_Are you an alien-otaku now?!_

**“Wait, that sounds like Alex-senpai huh…”**

_Yeah. And it doesn’t suits you._

**“CALL ME WHEN YOU SEE THESE MESSAGES, ASSHOLE.”**

“Well, fuck _you too_!” Taka grumbled as he furiously called the damn guitarist. It didn’t even took a second when Toru-san answered—

**“WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU!?”**

—and decided to _blast_ his eardrums with his loud, angry voice on the other line. What the actual fuck? It’s so early in the morning and Taka had already need to deal with this stuff?!

“In my unit, you bastard!” he retorted, equally pissed off, “What do you want?” he sharply asked. He can hear the guitarist’s laboured breathing— _he’s probably trying to calm his shit down but fuck if I cares_ —and soft mutters of curses.

“I was calling the whole night! I thought you died in some dark alley or something!” Toru-san ranted out loud that Taka had to move his phone away to prevent his eardrums from exploding, “What are you even doing? Ignoring all my calls!”

“Well, _for your fucking information_ , I was sleeping like everyone should be doing at this hour, you idiot!”

“It’ the New Year’s Eve!” the guitarist childishly insisted, making Taka groaned in exasperation. Does Toru-san called only to give him a scolding?! “Who would spend the night sleeping away?!”

“Well, obviously it’s _me_!”

“If you just come with me then—,”

“Oh my god, Toru-san,” Taka snapped impatiently, huffing indignantly as he pulled the sheets to cover his body, “Are we really arguing about that in this ungodly hour when I could have been sleeping and you could have been spending more time with your family?! _Seriously?!_ ”

It’s not even a day after the new year and they’re already fighting like _brats._

_What a nice way to start the year,_ Taka thought sarcastically, _seriously._

There was an uncomfortable, tensed silence that fell between them. The tension was so thick that you can practically cut it with a knife or something. When Toru-san didn’t utter a word even after a minute, Taka had to swallow— _hard_ —because of guilt.

Here Toru-san s worried about his well-being and what did he do?

He snapped like a bitch, _as usual._

_Ah, I really can’t get how Toru-san managed to stand my moodiness…_

_That’s probably because he’s a good leader, through and through, huh?_

And Taka is being his usual moody, crappy self huh? So he probably should apologize first—but just as he was opening his mouth to say sorry, Toru-san had already beaten him into speaking.

“I’m just worried, ne?” he said, his deep baritone filling Taka’s ears in a soothing manner, “We’re gonna spend the next New Year’s Eve together though,” he said, with such determination and finality that made Taka gape like a fish.

“WHAT.”

“I’ll stay next year,” the guitarist explained, as if that justifies his decision, “I’ll be 19 by then and we’re gonna drink or go to the temple for the _Hatsumode_ , ne?”

What the fuck— _he’s not even asking for my approval, dammit!_

But despite being offended at the guitarist’s declaration, Taka can’t bring himself to snap and went on full bitchy mode because just by imagining himself and Toru-san _drinking the night away_ and visiting the shrine for the first day of the new year along with other people, he can feel a small, satisfied— _and somewhat hopeful_ —smile forming on his once frowning lips.

How…

How can Toru-san have _good timing?_

How can Toru-san can make his day go _brighter_ —his perspective in the world go cleared just by a couple of words?

_How can he do that, dammit?!_

“I’ll never let you spend the New Year’s Eve alone from now on, ne?” the last part has been said in a soft manner, barely above a whisper, but still made Taka’s heart go warm and beating madly like a motherfucking drum.

“W-what the hell,” he stuttered in nervousness, his free hand unconsciously gripping Doraemon’s hand tightly, “You’re spouting _funny_ things again, Toru-san.”

To his surprise, delight and utter mortification, Toru-san softly chuckled on the other line—his deep laughter making Taka smile on his own because _apparently,_ that’s what you do when someone is laughing at your demise— _laugh with them_ , that is.

_I must be getting crazy, he mournfully thought to himself._

“Sure, Taka. _Sure_ ,” Toru-san  condescendingly said and Taka can’t really fight the urge to slap that grin that is probably splitting his handsome face right now, “Please take care of me for this year, too!”

_Asshole._

Taka smiled—his cheeks burning hot and red despite being alone in his cold, dark room—as he rolled on his side and embraced the Doraemon stuff toy.

“That goes without saying, _aho_ ,” he huffed and then spoke, now with a  much more quitter voice, “Please, _please_ take good care of me for this year too, Toru-san…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -You can notice that Tomoya really, really looks up at Taka in this fic--probably because Tomoya had said himself in the Musica: September 2012 Tomoya Interview (translated by Ryeon in tumblr), that "It came up earlier as well, but he [Taka] pointed out the path for me to be the drummer, he’s the person I respect the most, and I think he’s the greatest vocalist"
> 
> -The part where Tomoya's friends accepted his decision with ease was legit. It was taken from CD data interview, as posted and translated by Nanagami-san in livejournal. My initial reaction, too, was WTF. SERIOUSLY? AFTER ALL THE GUILT TOMOYA HAD FELT ALL THESE DAYS?!!
> 
> -Hatsumode is the first visit to a Shinto shrine in the first day of the new year.
> 
>  
> 
> Ah how times flew faaast. I can still remember when I wrote the New Year Chapter months ago and now they're already entering another year (in this fic LOL). I'm so happy I can't even XD
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading~!


	42. ADULT SUITS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> transitions~!
> 
> "Wearing an adult cartoon character costume,  
> My heart always has the see-saw weight of insecurity"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set between January 2007 until April 2007 and are composed of short shits and time skips. Nothing really important happened in here except for tiny toruka moments here and there. This ended up a long-ass chapter because I cramped my second-to-the-last draft in here to give way to the last chapters. Only two left!
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing beside my sucking story-telling and explaining shits, loads of typos and errors. The characters are all not mine.

They started the New Year with new hopes of a better future for the band. Taka had originally thought that now that they have a drummer, _even if he’s still considered as a support member_ , they can already make new songs and shits and finally produce an album to, _you know_ , gradually enter into the mainstream Japanese music industry.

But, _as usual,_ that was all in his optimistic dreams because they are still a bunch of rowdy teenagers who would prefer playing baseball even if it’s snowing— _yeah, I’m looking at you three, how can you even play at this weather_ —and with Toru-san who’s constantly booking their band for performances in live houses.

Like right _now._

“I’ve got us a live!”

Everyone whipped their head towards the entrance of the studio, when Toru-san barged into the room—panting and his shoulders and hair covered with snow. Seeing that the leader had finally graced them with his presence, Taka instantly went on his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at the guitarist.

“You’re late, you asshole!” he hollered, ignoring what Toru-san had just declared.

“Yeah!” Tomoya agreed from behind his drums before shoving a bite of burger into his mouth, “We almost _die_ because of hunger!”

…

Everyone stared at the drummer who _doesn’t look_ anything like someone who’s dying out of hunger! And for god’s sake, eating inside the studio is not allowed! _Mou_ , Taka can already feel the forthcoming headache just by dealing with this immature bunch of kids.

Ever since Tomoya joined the band, the trio— _yeah, it’s you Alex, Ryota and Tomoya_ —wouldn’t calmly stand in a corner. They were always running around in circles, playing imaginary baseball and talking _LOUDLY_ about the manga’s they’ve been reading last weekend. And eating— _god forbid_ —this trio, especially Tomoya didn’t care about the right time to eat anymore.

_I mean, they just eat whenever and wherever they want to!_

_Like right now!_

“Go die, you _pig_ ,” Taka snorted before huffing and turning towards the guitarist who’s looking completely clueless on why Taka is starting to fume like an _irritated housewife_ again. Taka ignored Tomoya’s surprised “Eh?! What did I do?!” and arched a brow, urging the leader to spill his guts or something.

“Well,” Toru-san nervously scratched the back of his head, “I’ve been handing out our cards and shits. And someone called me asking us to perform in their live house,” he smiled hopefully down at the vocalist, “Isn’t that great?”

Taka was about to answer that _sure it’s great and all_ but Toru-san had to make sure to be not late next time or else—when Alex roughly shoved him aside to stand directly in front of the leader.

“What the _fu_ —,”

“Ignore the _bitchy wife_ , Toru,” Alex said making Ryota and Tomoya gasp in unison somewhere in the background. Meanwhile, Taka and Toru’s eyes comically widened like the size of the fucking earth at the half-American’s off-handed comment, “Where is this live gonna be?”

It took Taka about 2 seconds before his brain started functioning again, “ _Who are you calling_ —,”

“It’s in Pink Noise somewhere in Setagaya,” Toru hastily answered, probably in fear of another screaming fest from the vocalist, “They’re gonna let us perform about 10 songs—,”

“Ten!?” Ryota’s eyes almost popped out of his sockets at that, “ _Ten!?_ ”

“You don’t have to repeat it, idiot,” Taka moodily snapped before staring at the ceiling. Well, who wouldn’t be surprised and ecstatic about that? If this live would be successful, this will be the most number of songs they can perform in a night! They usually just perform 3 to 5 songs in clubs so having to perform 10 is kinda nice, _huuuuh_?

“ _Ano nee_ ,” he was abruptly pulled out of his stupor when Tomoya slowly raised his free hand, “It’s super cool that we’re gonna perform 10 songs and all but uh, I’m uh—,”

“Just fucking say it!”

“You’re taking too long to speak, Tomo-kun!”

Tomoya’s face suddenly looked so crestfallen as he stared directly at Taka, silently asking for rescue, “I don’t know any of your songs,” he quickly said, earning a look of pure shock from the members, “How can I play like this?!”

 

 

 

 

 

Tomoya was not yet finish eating his _omurice_ when Takahiro dumped a MiniDisc case beside his plate. He’s been hanging out in Taka’s unit—as usual, and even if he’s scared that Toru would _murder_ his ass one of these days for _hogging all of the vocalist’s food and attention_ , Tomoya would still go back into this unit because Takahiro cooks like a world-class chef.

_Well, at least in my opinion._

Tomoya stared at the case, as he slowly munched the rice and egg meal, before looking back at Taka, “Whazz miz?”

That was supposed to be ‘ _what’s this’_ but he’s too busy eating and even if it’s already clearly visible, Takahiro is still staring at him like he’d just raided his fridge.

“That’s the set list we’re gonna play next week,” he said as he plopped down on the table across the drummer, “Memorize all of it.”

Tomoya almost— _almost because the vocalist would surely enjoy kicking him in the stomach if he actually dared to_ —spew all of the contents of his mouth onto Taka’s face before looking down at the MD lying innocently on the table.

_Oh, shit._

Tomoya gulped, completely aware of the sadistic smile that’s slowly forming on the vocalist’s face, “Uhm… _hai_ ,” he nervously nodded, “I’ll remember them.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka can’t really say anything against Tomoya, well except that he’s _wimpy and easy to bully as a kid_ —but regarding his passion for music? No, none at all.

He’s the most diligent— _and probably the most skillful when it comes to playing the instrument_ —among the members. He’s even more eager to practice than the original members, _dammit_!

And he’s really, _really_ good…

Taka cradled his chin on his palm as he sat on the studio floor, cross-legged, watching as Tomoya banged and beat the drums with so much enthusiasm that he can’t stop himself from swaying along the grooves of each song. They have been in the studio for hours and the drummer didn’t showed any signs of stopping for the day.

That’s one thing that he noticed about the newest member.

He’s determined to officially join the band and when he’s concentrating, no one can really burst into his own bubble.

Taka likes it though, the way Tomoya would randomly tapped on the table they’re eating their meals, or when he would tap his palms over his clothed thighs as he memorized each beat, each _verse,_ each _melodies_ of each and every _song_ with his mind, body, and soul.

_It’s like getting a good deal at a sale in the supermarket,_ Taka thought in amusement, _or like eating a good, steaming ramen. Or sushi that melts in your mouth._

Tomoya is like the cherry on top of the ice cream. The strawberry on top of the shortcake.

The— _wait, what the fuck—WHY AM I STARTING TO COMPARE HIM WITH FOOD STUFFS?! AM I ALSO TURNING LIKE THE FOOD-FREAK HE IS?!_

_God, I hope not._

He shivered, not really liking the idea of gaining more weight because there’s a _certain someone_ who’s always keen on reminding him how fat he gets these days.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They were casually eating reheated food in front of a convenient store, _where they usually meet up before going to the studio for rehearsal_ , when Ryota suddenly said something… _sensible_ , for the first time.

And given that it’s Ryota who spoke first, everyone— _well, aside from Tomoya who doesn’t even give a fuck because he’s too busy eating his yakisoba bread_ —instantly remembered the countless times that the bassist suggested something.

Toru remembered the day he was hospitalized because of their _mini-who-wants-to-be-the-vocalist-singing_ contest they’ve had more than a year ago while Alex and Taka remembered how they made the cheer they’re usually doing before lives until this day--all from Ryota’s ridiculous suggestions.

“ _Ano saa,”_ he slowly said as he look up from his food, while everyone shot him a confused, and somewhat _wary_ looks, “We’re rock bands, ne?”

A tensed silence ensued as they waited for Ryota to speak again. The only thing can be heard are their harsh, heavy breathings and Tomoya’s noise of appreciation for his bread in the background.

“I’ve watched CD’s from foreign bands, na?” he said, looking up at the dark, starless sky as if he’s remembering the _greatest moment_ of his life while Taka’s patience is quickly fading— _in fact, if Ryota won’t say whatever the fuck he wants to say in the next second, I’ll probably smack his head for giving us suspense_ —, “And they’re really super cool when they’re doing head bangs! Maybe we should do that too?! I mean, we’re rock bands, ne? Ne?” he asked, turning towards them with a huge, childish, _high as fuck_ look on his face.

…

…

…

For all the times that Ryota had suggested silly things, this is probably the _best_ one that he did.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And so, they attempted doing head bangs on their next rehearsal. They looks like children trying to shake some gum from their hair rather than grown up band men who’s feeling the music with their body.

“Ugh!” Ryota said, clutching his stomach as he dashed towards the exit with his guitar still strapped on his shoulder, “Bathroom, _bathroom_!”

Tomoya was smiling a _bit too widely_ in the back, grinning like a fool as his head swayed like he’d drunk a barrel worth of sake, “W-whoah,” he said, his eyes almost darting everywhere, “The walls are _moving_ , Taka-chaaaan~!”

Taka wanted to say that _no, idiot, the walls are not moving, you dumbass, and it’s dangerous to have those thoughts_ if he’s only feeling well and _not on his knees_ on the cold, hard floor—thinking and deeply regretting their decision to listen to Ryota’s suggestion—as he blinked the dizziness away from his system.

Beside him stood Alex and Toru who’s eyeing the dizzy drummer and the sick-looking vocalist on the floor, probably thinking that they’re _a bunch of pathetic wuss_ for not being able to take real head banging.

“You look like _shit_ , Mori-chan!” Alex chanted, skipping around him as he relishes on the vocalist’s demise, “And you call yourself a rock band vocalist?! How are you gonna sing super rock songs if you’re like that?!”

“I’ll fucking kill you…” Taka muttered, pushing himself off the floor and was about to lash out and bitch at the lead guitarist when he’s suddenly attacked by nausea and the strong urge to follow Ryota in the bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach— _and now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I’ll shove that fucker’s face on the mess for even suggesting this shit!_ “Ugh!” he groaned.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The day of their live arrived.

Tomoya has been sitting, alone in the darkest corner of the backstage, thumping his sticks on his thighs as he listened to the music from his headphones. He’s been like that since they arrived in the venue, and Taka doesn’t really want to ruin the drummer’s concentration by _tackling_ him to the ground and bullying him.

Besides, Tomoya looks really _cool and reliable_ when he acts like a responsible and dedicated drummer like that so Taka just smiled inwardly and went to the others to make fun of everyone’s nervousness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Tomoya looks _chill and cool and reliable_ on the outside, but in reality, he’s already having a _colossal_ freak out. He had performed a few times before, and even if there are few people in the audience back then, he can proudly say that he’s past the phase of getting nervous just before the performance.

But it’s totally _different_ right now.

He’s performing with ONE OK ROCK!

And even if he’s still a support member, he can’t help but feel the _heavy as a boulder_ responsibility that landed on his shoulders as the band’s new drummer. He knows that everyone have high expectations for him, especially after hearing him play every rehearsal, but damn— _It’s making me more nervous, mou!_

And what’s with Takahiro these days?!

He’s always _lurking_ around, watching from afar—like a predator waiting his prey to show a hint of weakness before he pounces on it! Tomoya is dying of anticipation— _wait, what?—_ for Taka’s usual traynt-like words and some _friendly_ slaps and shoves here and there, but none of those came. Instead, Taka would just stared at him, nod in approval, before smiling— _which still gives me the creeps, dammit, why is he smiling like that!? Is he planning murdering me or something?!—_ and turning away from the drummer.

Tomoya would always end up watching the vocalist’s back in disappointment— _again, what?! Am I disappointed that he didn’t bully me this time?! Eh?! That’s weird!_ —and with a small, sad pout on his face.

Anyways, like what he’s been saying earlier, he might look calm in the outside but he’s actually dying in nervousness in the inside. Especially now that the live had officially started and Taka is already talking to the audience in his spot in the middle of the stage.

The live house is small, dark and somewhat cramped with a hundred or more people packed inside. Despite his nerve-wracking feelings, Tomoya can’t help himself to admire the view— _the view of a drummer from behind everyone_ —of the people below them smiling and cheering—even if they’re mostly girls—and the backs of his band mates.

_I—_

He can’t help but feel the warmth surging through his veins, the adrenaline rushing through every fiber of his beings as he resumed his position, gladly beating the drums to finally start their live. He smiled, his chest expanding in gratitude for Takahiro—for _persuading_ , for _leading_ , for _accepting_ him into the band, as he thumped the cymbals and the bass drums—

_I’m glad that I joined you guys!_

_I’ll definitely give my very best tonight!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Of course, as usual, the universe is doing everything it can to _fuck up_ their plans. They were almost on the end of the live, Taka is singing the lines of Moshimo Taiyou ga Nakunatta Toshitara nearing towards the end of the second verse when Tomoya was suddenly assaulted by _extreme nervousness_ that his mind got _blank._

Like _totally empty_ -kind of blank.

_E-eh!?_

He looks horrified for a moment, as Taka ended the singing verse and while his hands and pedal kept on thumping the drums across him, his mind is in utter, complete chaos because—

_Eh?! What was after this again?!_

_Holy shit!_

Even if he racked up his poor brain, nothing really came to his mind so he just muttered a soft “ _uuuu-waaaah!!!_ ” and hit some random beats.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Everyone’s head suddenly snapped towards the drummer hen the second verse, especially Taka because the drums were supposed to _stop abruptly_ at that part, to let the vocals flow into the song!

_What the hell?!_

“Te?!”

His confused eyes landed on the overwhelmed and _equally_ panicking gaze of the drummer who’s beating the drums as if there’s no tomorrow!

_It’s not a hard rock song, you idio—_

Taka then snapped his gaze forward, ignoring the worried looks of the remaining members, and face the audience who’s blissfully unaware of their tiny mess-up on stage, “Let’s get it on more!” he shouted, allowing more time for Tomoya to gather his _scattered_ brain and play on the right track, “Louder!”

The crowd cheered, bouncing on their feet animatedly as Taka grinned and nodded like there’s nothing shitty happening on stage. After a while of furiously hitting the drums, Tomoya seems to calm down and proceeds on playing the right beats.

His face looks like he’s about to cry, but Taka glared at him, silently ordering him to man up and just play properly until the end.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ahhh!!!” Tomoya screamed right after exiting the live house through the back door—he yelled, not mining the odd looks of the passerby’s who jumped back in shock when he suddenly dive outside and screamed his lungs out, “I messed up!!! I me— _ack_!”

“Then don’t shout it to the whole world, aho!”

He almost toppled on the wet sidewalk when Takahiro suddenly smack him on the back of his head, “Wuh—?!”

He turned back, clutching the aching part of his head and with a huge pout on his face. Taka is huffing, crossing his arms in annoyance while Toru followed him with an impassive look on his face. Even if he just got smacked, Tomoya felt this strange _adoration_ and newly-found respect for the vocalist.

_I mean, I’ve clearly messed up earlier but he took it as a chance to make it looks like they’re reaching for the crowd—like there’s nothing wrong on stage._

And that—that show of professionalism—is what makes Taka so admirable. His stage presence, his command of the crowd, his ad libs when someone makes a mistake—aside from his pretty voice—makes him a good _, if not the best,_ vocalist in Tomoya’s eyes.

It’s really hard to imagine that he’s the same shy boy who’s always looking down on his shoes while singing in Toru’s stories…

“Right,” the said leader nodded his head in affirmation, “you messed up—,”

“Do you really have to repeat it?!”

“—but it’ll be worse if you get arrested for causing public disturbance, ne?”

_Why are you speaking like a wise-man who had already experienced getting arrested for causing public disturbances..?_

“Besides,” Taka added, rubbing his palms against each other to create warmth, “Everyone makes mistakes, that’s natural—all we have to do is make the most of it, not get beaten by it, _mou!_ ”

Tomoya…

Tomoya felt his tears formed on the corner of his eyes as he stared at the grouchy-looking vocalist who’s currently muttering and cursing all the gods for the cold weather—

_How can he be so perfect, waaaah!!!_

He really, _really_ wants to crush the tiny vocalist with a _bone-shattering_ hug but even if _slightly_ wants to be hurt by Takahiro, he still fears for his pathetic life. I mean, Takahiro would surely go _all-out kung-fu_ on his ass even before Tomoya can tackle him to the ground, that’s sure!

So he just remained on his spot, grinning like fool, and thinking how glad he is for joining the band.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The news of their first single— _their debut single_ —came like a motherfucking wrecking ball. It was almost mid-February when all of the members were summoned in the Amuse studio for an urgent meeting.

And just by reading the word _URGENT_ in the messages sent out by their manager, everyone instantly got scared _shitless._

“What if we’re gonna be forced to disband?!” Ryota subtly freaked out on his seat while Tomoya is just staring at the painted wall of the studio—he looks so solemn and shits that no one can ever tell if he’s regretting his decision to join the band or if he’s just thinking of what to eat after this supposed meeting with the agency.

“But why?” is Alex cool question. He’s leaning on the backrest of the long sofa, looking calm and chill as if they’re not facing yet another crisis for their band, “We’re doing pretty good, ne?”

Flashbacks of numerous mistakes on stages, the times when Taka forgot the lyrics, the times when the guitars are not in sync, the times when Tomoya is randomly hitting some beat while looking completely lost and panicked and the times when Toru failed to play the harmonica.

…

Takahiro wanted to say that _no, you idiot, we’re not really doing that well, aho_ but he probably had swallowed his tongue due to nervousness that he couldn’t even form a smart response to the half-American. The trauma of his past life in the entertainment world is flashing back to his mind that he just stared at the empty seat across them, looking lost, bewildered, constipated, and scared shitless— _all at the same time._

“Yeah,” to his shock, Toru-san agreed, nodding his head in confidence, “We’re doing really well for an underground band ne? Besides, I wouldn’t let them to dissolve this band. Ever.”

_Sure, Toru-san. As if you even have the authority to decide those things_ , Taka bitterly thought.

The tension inside the room was so thick that when their manager—Gocchan—entered the room, he froze on the doorway and stared at the _grim_ looks on these five teenagers.

“Who died?” he asked, but no one answered. Instead, the solemn looking teens just slowly— _agonizingly slowly_ —raised their gazes towards the manager. At that moment, Gocchan decided that while they all act tough and cool most of the times, these people are still merely children wearing adult suits.

Gocchan could’ve really laugh at their mournful faces but he didn’t and instead, decided to break out the surprisingly good news, “Uh…have you heard the news? You guys are going to have your debut single on April!”

…

…

“E-eh?!!!!!!” the five cried out in unison, probably in shock, but Gocchan just shrugged it away.

“The management has seen some potential in you so you’d better—,”

“Ha!” Alex suddenly leapt to his feet and pointed a finger at the vocalist, “Take that Mori-chan! I told you no one’s gonna disband because we’re doing _great_!”

What.

“Really?! Is this real?!” Tomoya whipped his head sideways for confirmation but no one really bothered to answer him because they’re all busy freaking out— _in a good way_ , this time.

“Oh god, I thought we’re gonna die!” Ryota bawled, clutching at his dear Toru-nii’s sleeves for comfort, “I’m so happy, Toru-nii!”

“Stop crying like a wuss!” Toru snapped, shrugging the overly-tight fingers ruining his clothes.

Taka wished that he could really talk about those moments— _probably the happiest 60 seconds of his life since he was born_ —because damn, _we’re getting a single! That means that we could have our own album!_ More songs, more music, so that more people can hear them! And they can even perform at even larger places or even in abroad!

Really, Taka would want to, but _hey_ , his mind suddenly go blank at the _sheer intensity_ of happiness, shock, fear, worry, and a shit-load of glee that he blacked out on his seat. _Seriously._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They were hanging out in front of a convenient store in Komazawa when Taka was hit with this sudden urge to flip his yakisoba bread and just start _writing a song_. They’ve just finished a performance and were about to go home but Tomoya’s stomach rumbled rudely so they decided to stop in a convenience store and eat some bread.

“Have you,” Alex said as he looked at the murky sky of Tokyo as if he’s seeing the outer space with a huge telescope, “Have you ever wondered if aliens are—,”

“No, we _haven’t_ ,” Taka bluntly said as he glanced at the dazed rhythm guitarist beside him, “Hand me your guitar, Toru-san,” he demanded, ignoring Alex’s yell _—“Hey, don’t ignore me!”—_ and Tomoya and Ryota’s annoying snickers in the background.

Toru-san glared at him, probably because of acting like a king again _—“why are you always talking to me as if I’m your servant, mou!”_ —but obeyed nonetheless. The leader huffed before pulling his guitar case from his back and opening it. He plucked the heavy Gibson from the case and carefully handed it to Taka.

_Hurry up, hurry up!_

He excitedly bounced on his feet as he nodded his head along with the tune that’s quickly forming in his mind— _notes after notes_. He couldn’t care less even if his band mates are giving him odd locks and are probably wondering why the fuck is he acting like a _hyperactive puppy_ again.

He eagerly accepted the guitar and slid the strap onto his shoulder—the instruments seems so large in his small frame but _fuck if he cares_ —he tested a few strums, blinking when it doesn’t come out the way he expected it to be.

“Eh?” he said, tilting his head in a confused-childlike manner before trying to strum the strings again while his band mates just stared at him with equal confusion.

“What are you doing, Mori-chan?” Ryota asked at the serious-looking vocalist.

“He probably wants to _replace_ Toru as the rhythm guitarist,” Alex commented making the said leader to let out a strangled sound.

“I’m not, aho,” Taka said before looking up, “I think I came up with a good song,” he declared, as an overly enthusiastic grin spreads across his lips.

“Eh?!” Tomoya said, looking up from his food, “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” the vocalist nodded as the other members curiously gathered around him as if they’re gonna have a conspiracy shits in the middle of the night, “I’ll show you. Just ignore my shitty guitar skills—,”

Toru-san snorted at that making Taka glared at the younger teen, “—but listen, everyone, ne? It’s a _C-D-E…_ ” he said, watching his fingers pressed on the fret sloppily. Toru-san is probably about to laugh his ass out because of his pathetic attempt to even play the guitar properly, but when Taka decided to ignore him and focused on playing a single tune, the leader fell into silence.

Like everyone else.

Taka continued playing, his fingers gliding with _amateurish_ skill on the frets, strumming the cords with not enough force but still—he made an _almost complete_ riff for a song—and everyone obviously liked it because just look at your faces! _Hah! Take that, Toru-san! I can also make songs!_

And so, that song which Taka just made up in front of the convenience store near the Komazawa Station became their debut single.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

March came in, as well as Toru-san’s graduation from high school.

And since they considered themselves as a small, albeit a _little fucked-up family_ , Taka went into the school even if he’s banned from entering it again because _why the fuck not?_

Besides, it’s Toru-san’s graduation!

_I shouldn’t miss this event!_

“Hey!” he snapped, shoving the tall leader—who’s about to make his escape-shits again for _god-knows-how many times_ already—to the door of the school gymnasium, “Stay still you asshole! I’m gonna take a fucking picture so stand still, ne?!” he threatened, aiming his camera at the teen’s heavily disgruntled face.

“Why the fuck are you taking a picture—,”

“Shut the fuck up—,”

“Why are you _even_ here—,”

“Because your Mom told me to,” Taka said, as he let go of his camera and pulled Toru-san closer to inspect his clothes. He even ignored the comical wide eye astonishment of the leader upon knowing that, yeah, his mother contacted Taka to accompany Toru because she’s not feeling that well to travel from Osaka to Tokyo.

And yes, Taka agreed _whole-heartedly_ because look at him!

_Just look at Toru-san!_

All clad in formal clothes—white, long-sleeved undershirt and a black coat for his graduation day. Taka had toured the streets of Shibuya, along with a  reluctant and _brooding_ guitarist, in search of an appropriate set of clothes for Toru-san. He actually wanted a three-piece suit with tie and all but this _dumb gachapin_ wouldn’t want any of it, especially because Taka volunteered to pay for it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“It’s my graduation gift for you,” he said while looking in the suits displayed in a particular tailor shop for men. Toru-san, on the other hand, just gawked at him as if he had just eaten a live chicken.

“What the fu—,” he instantly shut his mouth up when the sales lady smiles a bit too widely—and somewhat reprimanding—at him, “I mean, why are you even buying me a gift?! I’m just graduating from high school, not having a promotion!”

“Eh,” Taka tilted his head as he grabbed another hanger of suit, “That’s exactly because you’re graduating. Besides, I’m the one who’s paying so stop _bitching_ ,” the sales lady coughed awkwardly, probably to remind Taka that he should limit his use of rather _flowery words_ inside the shop, “Here, try this one, Toru-san.”

“But—,”

Taka glared at the taller teen, his almond-shaped eyes squinting into narrow lines as he silently challenged Toru-san— _come on, Toru-san, give me a reason to slap your stupid face with this suit—COME ON! One word from your mouth and I’ll fucking shove this hanger down into your throat, come on!_

To his relief—and probably the sales lady’s too, because she’s been standing there for what seems like forever—Toru-san pouted in defeat before snatching the hanger from his hand and walking into the nearest fitting room, but not without glaring and muttering a soft “I fucking hate you, you spoiled-rich ass brat!”

Taka cheekily smiled at that as he pulled the curtain close, “Ah, we both know that you _love_ me, Toru-chaaaan~!” he teasingly said, earning a _violent choking and coughing fit_ inside the fitting room. Taka nodded in triumph as he waited for the man to finish trying the clothes.

But then, he noticed the sales lady is still there and is now eyeing him in slight, uhm, _discomfort_ , because she probably heard and misunderstand what he just said **_OH GOD WHY AM I SO STUPID GOD-FUCKING-SHIT!_**

“U-uhm, _ahahahahaha_ ,” he awkwardly laugh, averting his gaze to focus his eyes on the bland curtains—and to avoid the uncomfortable gaze of the sales lady—as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world, “I-I mean, as a friend!” he said, aloud and with a somewhat shaky voice, “You love me as friend, right, Toru-san?”

_Oh, God, this is so utterly humiliating._

The rhythm guitarist made a non-committal grunt before snorting, “Whatever the fuck you say, you fucking tyrant midget.”

Taka swears that he’ll never go back to that shop again. _Ever._

 

* * *

 

 

 

Anyways, Toru-san looks great in his suit and will even looks _better_ if he will just wipe that bored look on his stupid face. Why is he even feeling shit about his graduation _?! I mean, he’s graduating today!_ He’s so lucky to even finish high school, when Taka couldn’t even finish his!

So, even if there’s this slight, twinge of _pain and envy_ slashing through his chest, Taka still grinned widely at the gruffly guitarist and fussed over him like a dutiful mother.

“I don’t understand why I have to wear this _shit_ ,” Toru-san complained as he tested out the sleeves of his suit, “Why can’t I just wear a jersey, huh?”

_Oh, Toru-san, you’re a great band leader and all but sometimes, you’re really, **really** stupid, ne?_

“Because this is not a sport tournament, _aho_!”

“But why suit! It’s like I’m going to a funeral!”

_Yeah because you’re gonna be in your own funeral if you don’t shut the fuck up._

Taka angrily raised his camera to take another shot of the guitarist. It’s not for him _per se_ , but for Toru’s family who can’t be here for this special moment. And since the guitarist’s parents had gladly, somewhat— _at least in Taka’s imagination_ —welcomed him to his family, Taka would rather die than to let them down. So here he is, snapping stolen and _obviously-forced_ shots of the pouting leader.

“If you don’t want it, then fucking _strip!_ ” he said out loud— _again, because he’s an idiot that wouldn’t learn his lesson the first time_ —earning a surprised gasps from the horde of students and parents around them. Some of their heads snapped at Taka, then at Toru-san who just stared back with a bored and slightly threatening-looks-that-could-kill. When the nosy people discovered that _‘Fuck! It’s Yamashita!’_ They’ve just quickly averted their gaze as if Taka didn’t just shout something with disturbing content that could be easily _misunderstood_ by others.

“Eh…” Toru-san averted his gaze, as he _fidgeted_ on his spot, “I don’t wanna strip _here_ …”

And since Taka is probably the biggest idiot of the century, he just shrugged that dubious comment off and handed the diploma to the guitarist, “Here, hold this one and for _fuck’s sake_ —,” another scandalized gasp from the parents, “look at the fucking camera.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru pouted for a moment before sighing—probably thinking that it’s better to obey rather than to argue with a motherly Taka practically in front of the whole school—and accepting the folder-like shit called _diploma_. He opened it, stared at the camera but didn’t smile, even after Taka had taken the shot.

“Are you happy now?” he asked, watching how the vocalist inspected his picture from his camera. While Toru is dying of mortification and discomfort in wearing this _hellish piece_ of clothing, Takahiro is wearing a long coat and his old Peruvian hat, looking relaxed and comfortable as hell.

He really can’t understand this idiot’s way of thinking.

Toru knows that it’s not normal for friends to buy things— _lavish, expensive things_ —for their so called friends, but he don’t know if he’s upset about that, or the fact that even after all these days, Taka still regarded him as a _friend._

A _close_ friend.

_Eh_ …

So, what do you want, his mind asked, _date him and be boyfriends or something?_

…

…

…

WHOAH.

Toru inwardly cringed at that. _What the actual fuck, where did those thoughts even came from?! Boyfriends?! Seriously?!_

Oh god, that’s the most ridiculous thing he’d ever thought—well, aside from forming this band more than a year ago—and that should be buried into the deepest recesses of his mind because, again _, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!_

_Matte, matte!_

_I’m not a homo, right?!_

He and Taka are just really _, really_ , **_really_** close buddies—no matter how it leaves a _bitter_ taste in his mouth—right? They’re just super close friends, right?

…

…

…

There might be something _wrong_ inside Toru’s head because he didn’t make any effort to deny it.

_Dammit._

“Hey, Toru-san…” he was abruptly pulled out of his dangerous stupor when Taka spoke after a moment of silence. Toru snapped his frustrated gaze at the vocalist which instantly softens when he realized that Taka is looking at the photo he just took in his camera. He’s staring at Toru’s picture— _no matter how creepy that sounds_ —like it’s the prettiest, _most precious_ thing he had ever caught and immortalized in his camera, and Toru’s heart just melted like a fucking _goo_ at that.

“Hmmm?”

“What…” Taka swallowed before looking up at him with wide eyes—confusion and a hint of fear swirling within those dark orbs—, “What are your plans after this…?”

After this?

“Uh. Probably go home and have a meal with my family—,”

“No, not that you _dimwitted fool_!” the vocalist snapped, making him recoil, “I mean, what are your plans after your graduation?! Do you _even_ have plans?! Or—!” Taka’s loud voice suddenly went quiet, as if he’s scared that someone would hear his next words, “…or you’re planning to get _serious_ in life…probably go to a university or something..?”

…

Toru didn’t expect that the vocalist is actually worrying his little brain for those kinds of things _. I mean, I’m the one who’s graduated and I haven’t given a thought about my future, dammit!_

To think that Taka is worried, concerned— _scared is probably the right term_ —about Toru’s decision about his future makes the leader feels somewhat fuzzy and warm. He’s probably scared that Toru might decide to leave the band if he would want to get a life or something.

_Pfffft!_

Toru wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculous thoughts of their vocalist. As if he’ll want a life without the band.

He’s almost dying out of boredom a year ago and forming this band, meeting these people and performing in the dark, cramped live houses are probably the best thing that ever happened in his life— _and I wouldn’t exchange it for anything._

He wanted to say that this band is his life—that he’s ready to stay and live the future with his friends—with Taka but it sounds weird even in his own dumb mind so he just shut up and proceeds to ruffle the vocalist’s hair, _you know_ , just to piss the living daylights out of him or _something._

“What?” he asked, ignoring how the vocalist huff and tried to slap his hand away, “You’re gonna _miss_ me or something, huh, Taka-chan?”

“Don’t call me Taka-chan _, mou_!” he snapped, as he weakly pushed Toru away before he angrily crossed his arms over his chest. His almond-shaped eyes were darting everywhere as his plump cheeks slowly redden in embarrassment, “ _Maa_ , probably just a little coz you’re still our leader, dammit!”

Ah…

Toru would really love to pounce on this cute, adorable _little shit_ if he’s not just intent on denying that he’s not a homo—damn, why is he looking cute even without trying! He decided that getting close to the vocalist—in public—is really dangerous for his the _welfare_ of his sanity so Toru subtly inched away and looked at the sea of people across them—some students are crying as they bade farewell to each other, some are cackling in laughter while some instantly _dashed away_ upon meeting Toru’s bored-looking eyes.

_What did I do now?!_

“ _Maa_ …” he started, making Taka slowly looked up at him in confusion, “I’ll move out of the dorm and find a unit near the studio…then I’ll be giving all of my time for the band. We’ll be releasing our single next month and there’s Monster Bash too, nee?” he said, glancing down at the shocked— _and somewhat relieved vocalist beside him_ —, “Wouldn’t it be great..?”

“Ehhhh…” Taka drawled, averting his gaze again, “I don’t know. I don’t want you to stop pursuing your dreams or something just because you _feel_ like you’re the leader of the band.”

“I _AM_ the leader of the band,” he blandly said, “Look, I don’t want to pursue tertiary education, Taka. I’m dumb, can’t you see?”

The vocalist let his eyes shamelessly roam on Toru’s form—from head to toe, making him nervous as fuck—before grinning like the fool he is, “ _Maa_ …You can say that…”

“Anyway, I’m not really cut for studying and shits and besides,” he huffed, “I want to invest my future in this band. Live my life like a proper band man and grow old with **_yo_** —everyone,” he said, almost saying another _weird as fuck shit_ in front of the vocalist who’s eyeing him in suspicion. He looks unconvinced but Toru is busy trying to evade those scrutinizing narrowed eyes, “so, don’t worry, ne? _We’ll be together_ —I mean, all of us—until our band well, disbands?”

Takahiro didn’t looks amused even at the cheesy shits he just spouted. In fact, he actually looks like a constipated dinosaur who’s about to roar at Toru's weird choices of words.

“We’re not gonna disband,” Taka muttered quite confidently afterwards, “Right?”

Toru stared at those wide, scared eyes and realized that the vocalist is silently searching for assurance, for pledges of a stable future, for security—and Toru would _give the entire world up_ just to make him feel safe and sound in the next years to come.

“Hai,” he nodded, grinning when Taka let out a huge sigh of relief, “We’re not gonna disband. _No matter what happens_ , ne?”

Taka didn’t answer, but the wide, childish and obviously-satisfied grin adorning his lips is enough for Toru. Enough for _now._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka’s birthday flew fast. He thought that it would be another ordinary day to spend with his little brothers but hell no— _dammit, Toru-san, what are you doing here again?!_

“Look,” Toru-san said, raising his palms in the air as if he already read the obviously pissed-off look on Taka’s face. Taka has been changing his clothes when the guitarist casually walked into his bedroom as if he’s just walking in the park and **not in someone else’s house!**

Taka impassively stared at Toru-san, mentally calming himself from exploding because he’s 19 today and he’s the older one in this room and that he’s supposed to be and _adult and matured_ —but just looking at the gachapin face across him makes him want to flip everything off and just fling his indoor slippers towards Toru-san’s face!

“What the fuck,” he spat, as his fingers hastily closed the buttons of his long sleeve shirt, “ **WHAT THE FUCK** ,” he repeated with more intensity and emphasis on the word _fuck_.

“Chill down, Taka,” Toru-san calmly said, “I know that you planned to spend the day with your brothers—,”

“How the fuck did you even know that, you stalking piece of shi—,”

“But it’s your birthday so I thought that we should celebrate!” he said, opening up his palms, smiling bashfully at Taka that makes him want to throw up all the food he ate for breakfast earlier. Toru-san probably have seen the horror on his face so he immediately made amends, “I didn’t tell anyone about it! It will be just the _two of us_!”

That makes Taka wants to throw up _even more._

But because of _different_ reason. He suddenly felt thousands of butterflies or bugs swirling inside his stomach because of Toru-san’s statement. What the hell, why is he suddenly feeling giddy and shits just by those words?!

He’s not a girl for fuck’s sake!

“Just…” he awkwardly cleared his throat, “Just the two of us?”

“Hai.”

“Like, _you and me_?”

“Well, can you think any other meaning for that?”

“Do you know how weird that sounds, Toru-san?”

Apparently not because the rhythm guitarist merely snorted, “Who gives a fuck on how weird it is? I saw this cake shop just a week ago and maybe we should try it?”

Taka didn’t answer.

Well, how could he when Toru-san is here, _practically asking for a date in a cake shop for his birthday?!_ How dense can Toru-san be, seriously?! And cake shop? Really? Isn’t it the most cliché dating spot for like, ever?

What the hell.

_Who says we’re going to a date dammit!_

“Or if you don’t want that,” the guitarist off-handedly commented, “we can still go fishing in Wakayama. The offer last year still stands, you know?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

And that’s how they spend the whole day fishing. He even brought his two little brothers just for the heck of it _. I mean, it’s my birthday and I’m the one who’s supposed to get spoiled, not my brothers—no matter how adorable they are—right?!_

Besides, fishing is fun!

It teaches you how to be disciplined and patient and someshit that will make your mind peaceful and relax! And you can even eat the fish afterwards!

_Too bad_ his company doesn’t share the same sentiment.

“I can’t believe that you brought us here, Aniki,” Hiro dramatically said as he plopped his red, chubby cheeks on his palms, “I thought we’re gonna go to a cake shop!”

“Shut up, Hiroki,” Tomohiro nodded, acting like he’s the oldest and most matured as usual, “It’s not your birthday so we’ll have to suck it up even if this _sucks!_ ”

_Ouch._

“Hey, Tomo!” Taka snapped from where he’s crouching beside his fishing rod, as he pulled his face mask down, “Where did you learn that language, you little brat?!”

“In school!” the younger pouted as he clutched his fishing rod with his smaller hands, “Besides, Hiroki said that there will be cakes today, Aniki! You _all_ fooled me!”

_Wow. Too much drama._

It’s not even noon and there’s already a family drama brewing right in front of his eyes.

“It’s not _my_ fault!” Hiroki puffed out his cheeks in denial, as he suddenly pointed to the sulking Toru-san in the background, “Toru-oniisan said that there will be cakes today!”

“WHAT,” is Taka’s very intelligent reply.

“Ah, Hiro you traitor!” the fully-grown man roared, “I told you it’s a secret _mou_!”

“What secret...?”

“They’re planning to take you out on a _date_ in a cake shop, Aniki,” Tomo blandly said making the two gasp in _horror and betrayal_ —while Taka’s murderous gaze landed on the two—, “and it obviously failed since you chose fishing in this place even if it’s not really fun, _mou_!” Taka watched—well, the three of them watched with open-mouthed astonishment—as the usually _calm and timid_ Tomohiro suddenly fling the fishing rod on the lake and look at Taka with the biggest pout and massive teary eyes, “I want cake, Aniki! I want cake!”

_What. The. Hell._

Taka looked at his moody brother, then at Toru-san’s equally baffled look when he suddenly had this urge to defend his brother’s dignity in front of this gachapin-faced guitarist, “H-he’s not always like this! Tomo is usually calm and smart and—,”

“I want cakes and sweets, anikiiii!!!” the second Mori son whined in the background, making Taka sweat like he just ran  5 kilometer-marathon, “now!!!”

“Oh, for the love of—,” he rolled his eyes in exasperation before he snapped at the younger Moriuchi, “Damn, why are you acting like a spoiled tyrant huh?! _Where_ did you even get that attitude, young man?!”

There was an awkward silence wherein three sets of eyes landed on Taka’s form. They are looking at him with so much intensity without saying anything at all and that makes everything worse!

_I feel like I’m being judged, mou!_

To his utter horror and humiliation, Toru-san suddenly burst out in laughter behind him, earning confused and totally-weirded out looks from the Moriuchi brothers.

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” he said, as he straightened up and look at their basket where all of the fish they caught went to—which is still _empty_ at the moment despite waiting for hours, “Let’s just go to the cake shop, ne? You don’t want to have your baby brothers crying here, right?”

“I’m not  _baby_!” Hiro muttered in denial.

“Yay!” Tomo cheered as he instantly latched on Taka’s sweater, “Cakes! I think I like your friend, Aniki!”

Toru-san grinned even wider at that, that makes Taka want to fling his fishing rod to his face, “Well that’s cool Let’s go, then?”

“Heh,” Hiroki cheekily drawled as he hold onto the guitarist’s hand as if they've known each other for _ages_ , “Wait until you see him play in the arcades, Tomo-nii. We’ll definitely get free toys because he sucks in playing!”

“Whooooaaaaaah~!”

Toru-san made a strangled sound—which made Taka smirk like hell because _hah! Get that Toru-san! Even my adorable brother thinks you’re lame!_ —before he looks up at Taka with a small pout on his thin lips. Taka raised a brow at that, silently asking him on what the fuck is he pouting about?!

But to Taka’s amazement, Toru-san just sighed and smiled, holding out his gloved palms for the vocalist to take it and what— _walk outside the lake like a homo couple with a  bunch of kids walking and babbling excitedly around them?!_

Oh dear god.

“I’m not holding your hand, Toru-san,” he moodily snapped, making three heads whipped their gaze at him in unison.

“Why not?” he asked, in his dejected voice— _mou, I swear Toru-san had already mastered the art of acting like a rejected puppy! And he’s using it to me! And what’s more irritating is that it works perfectly on me! God-fucking-dammit!—_ while his brothers chanted “ _yeah, why not Aniki_ ” in the background. “It’s still cold and you’re so _stupid_ to forget your gloves, right?”

I’m not stupid!” he snapped—

“Yeah, Aniki’s not stupid!” is Tomo’s loud way of defending him. _Nice try, Tomohiro. Have I told you how much I love you even if I bullied you to death back then—_

—and glared at the guitarist who’s looking all smug, “It’s not even cold! It’s already spring, dammit!”

Then a particularly cold breeze swept pass through them making Taka shivered _just a little_ —which doesn’t escape Toru-san’s hawk-like eyes. He looked up, his eyes widening as he slowly realized that the guitarist just saw him pathetically shivering in cold.

“I—!”

“Just hold his hand, Aniki,” Hiroki—his ever little annoyingly cute brother who loves spouting weird things as if it’s normal—suddenly pulled Taka’s arm and forced it to overlap with his Toru-oniisan’s gloved hand, “like this so we can go to the cake shop faster, ne?”

“Yey~!”

_Oh you damn ki—_

“Hiro’s right,” Toru-san nodded, his fingers instantly weaving with Taka’s own as if he’s scared that the vocalist would just pull away or something, “The cold is not good for the children. Let’s go to this cake shop where it’s warmer, ne?”

Taka…

Taka could really just flip him off and flesh a huge dirty finger on his stupidly grinning face but his brothers are already staring up at him with their lips puffed out in cute little pouts as if telling—no, SCREAMING—that _let’s hurry the fuck up Aniki, our asses our freeing here don’t you see, come ooooon!_

Well, _minus_ the cursing and rude language— _because my brothers are still practically like angels even if their spoiled little shits_ —but that’s how Taka’s brain processed it. And so he just mindlessly nodded, squeezing Toru-san’s hand with a _bit more_ force than usual before walking towards the exit. They certainly looks like a couple, walking hand-in-hand like that and with two children clutching at their either sides—people can all go stare and judge them—but Taka couldn’t’ bring himself to actually give a fuck.

It’s his birthdays anyway.

And he will _take all the love_ he can get from his most precious persons in the world, _even if it’s just for today._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They we’re already eating yummy cakes when Tomohiro suddenly asked the probably most important question of the day, “Did you left the fishing rods and basket in the park, Aniki?”

The spoonful of strawberry cheesecake stopped mid-air when Taka realized that _oh-shit I totally forgot the fishing stuffs!_

“Uhm…” he glared at the gachapin across him who’s busy talking with Hiro about music and stuffs he’s not really interested with, “Yeah, ahahahaha, don’t worry about it. Just finish your cake, Tomohiro ahahahaha,” he nervously laughed, praying that no one would arrest him for basically littering fishing paraphernalia’s in the lake.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Tomoya's first live with the band was really in this Pink Noise Livehouse (according to their Soundcreator's file, again, translations are not mine) HOWEVER, OOR has been playing there even as early as the second quarter of 2006, not just in 2007.
> 
> -Taka handing an MD to Tomoya to memorize all the songs in there is legit, as well as the part where Tomoya forgot what to play in the song. Taka's part of doing ad libs to compensate for his mistake is also legit based, again, from the Soundcreator's file.
> 
> -The part where Taka have an idea for their debut single is legit. It's taken from Rockin on Japan 2012 issue. Translations are all from ryeon.
> 
> -For Toru-san's graduation picture, I've used the one that's been flashed on the giant screen during their concert in Taiwan. I think it was on Toru-san's birthday? The events of his graduation are all fictitious.
> 
> -Moriuchi Tomohiro's character here is all made up and I know it's shit so please forgive meeeee.
> 
>  
> 
> It's Taka's birthday again LOL. 
> 
> And damn Leader-sama you've got some crazy, dangerous stuffs going in your mind huhhhh...
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> I'll really appreciate if you'll drop some comments/suggestions/constructive criticisms~!


	43. LOST AND FOUND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fighting.
> 
> "I know that I am dead still standing  
> Though my body’s shaking sweating like Wooo  
> I can almost taste the hate the rage the mourn the longer"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, and the second to the last for this installment~!
> 
>  HAPPY HOLIDAYS~!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own OOR.

Toru doesn’t have to be a genius to notice that the band is on _edge_ these past few days. Ever since their first performance outside the Kanto region, everyone _became listless, nervous and restless_ that it actually affects their succeeding performances.

It all started with the Monster Bash event in Kanagawa. Everyone was so excited— _Taka has been so excited_ because they’ve been invited to some music event outside Tokyo. Everyone felt like they’re finally moving forward, taking leaps _, steps_ towards their dream.

They even arrived early in the morning even if the event will start in the late afternoon. They’ve spent hours and hours rehearsing the few songs they will play _for only 15 minutes_ on stage. They were the opening act and everyone don’t want to disappoint the guests.

They we’re laughing and giddy and thrilled to perform in a foreign place— _well, at least outside of the usual live houses in Tokyo_ —so imagine their surprise and frustration when no one, like literally not a single soul, was there to listen to them.

How could they, when ONE OK ROCK is barely known in the Kanto area?

Toru realized— _in a painful way_ —that everything is not what it seems to be. They’ve thought that they can do anything, that they’re actually doing something—but ended up getting crushed with this _sickening_ feeling of not doing it enough.

No one came in that event for them—all of the audience came for the other bands who doesn’t look like _lost high-school boys nervously_ running around on stage.

_Oh, wait. There’s one._

That stupid _man_ who’s standing in the front rows, raising a dirty finger to the five of them as if he really, _really hated_ their band or something.

Actually, he was kinda expecting that Taka would jump down from the stage and strangle the said man with the cord of his microphone— _something that Toru would gladly help to, for once_ —but no. It must’ve been stage professionalism or someshit because Taka just huffed and started singing, totally not caring even if there’s no one to listen to their music.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I mean, they’ve intvited us so we’d better get our shits together!” Taka said after devouring an entire bowl of ramen. They’re currently in the downtown, eating their bleeding hearts out because, apparently, that’s the only thing they can do without breaking into fights.

And Toru didn’t want that because he’s already exhausted as fuck.

“But no one’s even listening to us!” Alex-senpai whined like a kicked puppy beside the vocalist, “Aren’t we just wasting our energy earlier?”

“ _Aho_!” Taka snidely snapped, as if he’s the oldest in their bunch, “Say that again and I’ll stab you with my chopsticks!”

“ _Maa, maa_ ,” Tomoya said, his mouth still full of the katsudon his currently eating, “Calm down, Taka-chan and let’s eat in peace _, ne?”_

“But he’s pushing it! _Argh_!” Taka slammed the empty bowl on the wooden table and locked his almond-shaped eyes onto Toru’s heavily lidded ones, “This is so frustrating! But we couldn’t stop, we _won’t_ stop!”

Ryota, finally looked up from the Ramen he’s eating, “Stop what, Mori-chan?”

“Stop doing our best in every live! We’re gonna get better until that fucking—,”

_“Mom! That onii-chan’s talking trash!”_

_“Don’t make eye contact with them!”_

“—zero audience _doubles!_ ” he declared, pumping his fist in the air.

Toru raised a sceptical brow at that, “But, isn’t that just... _one_?”

The vocalist grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, throwing a challenging glance at him, “Your point?”

Toru knows that tone. Oh, he knows it _very well_ since Taka only uses that whenever he’s almost completely pissed off, just giving Toru a slight chance to change his thoughts or he’ll end up dead somewhere in Tokyo Bay, or worse, _starving like a beggar_ in the spring air.

_I’m not even moving out of the dorm, and if Taka would hate me now, how can I look for available units nearby? How would I even eat proper meals?!_

“N-nothing,” Toru wants to slap himself for stuttering under the vocalist’s intense and somewhat murderous gaze, “I said nothing.”

“Ugh,” Alex-senpai made a strangled sound somewhere behind Taka, “when are you gonna _man u_ p, Toru? You can’t stay cowering under Taka’s skirt forever you know?”

WHAT.

“ _Pfffft!!!”_

“What the—!” Ryota jerked backwards when Tomoya bursts out laughing, the food in his mouth bursting out and _splattering_ towards the bassist’s face and chest, “Tomo-kun!”

“ _G-gomen, gomen_!” Tomoya said, howling in laughter and _not sounding apologetic at all_ as he smothered the youngest with a wad of tissue paper, “Alex’s joke was just _ahahahahaha_!!!”

“Stop laughing and help get these off me!”

Toru saw Taka rolled his eyes in exasperation before he plopped down on his seat, making a disgusted face at the mess on their table— _and on Ryota’s face_ —before his shoulders slumped down, full lips turning down with a frown.

_He’s in his own little world again..._ Toru thought bitterly, wondering when would Taka open up to him without the guitarist resorting to neither force nor mental-pressure. He thought that the vocalist had gone past that phase as flashbacks of the time when Tomoya just entered the band flooded his mind. He didn’t want to pressure Takahiro into talking his guts out but he still couldn’t stand the annoyed, somber look on the vocalist’s face since they’ve made their way out of the venue earlier.

He thought that it would be easy as walking in the park—that now that they’re about to release their debut single, everything good will follows. Their management even brought their songs to Shibuya and will be used as ending themes for some local TV programs…

_But I guess, it’s not really that easy, huh..?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That was the _last_ time they had fun together. Everything slowly came _crashing_ around Toru—everything and everyone was a mess in the following days. Alex-senpai won’t show up in some of their rehearsals, Ryota would whine about not hearing his bass, Tomoya would never stop eating (it’s not necessarily a bad thing but since their little band is in trouble, he decided that everyone should focus on getting their shits together, instead of, I don’t know _, pigging out_ on ramen and katsudon— _yes, I’m looking at you Tomoya, don’t even attempt to hide that meat buns behind you, we’ll be performing in a minute, dammit!_ ), Toru, himself has been so _irritated_ , always snapping at everyone’s mistake like no one is allowed to miss a beat or forget a line, and Taka...

Taka had it _worst._

The transition between winter and spring proves to be colder, the ice and snow which had accumulated these past few months are finally melting, making the temperature even go lower. Add that to the sudden fishing trip they’ve gone with Taka’s little brothers just a few days ago…

That’s probably how Taka caught a cold. Or throat infection. Or something equally bothersome, especially if you’re the vocalist of your band.

_So, is it my fault…?_

Toru watched as Taka turned around, coughing into his hands as quietly as he could. No one seemed to hear it since the audience outside is terribly noisy because of the band performing on stage. He sighed, padding towards the vocalist. He winced when his hand landed on the vocalist’s shoulder, making Taka flinched in surprise.

“Wh-what?” he rasped out, both of their eyes widening the size of the entire universe at the _cracking voice_ that came out of Taka’s lips.

“You’re sick?” Toru said as he touched the vocalist’s forehead. It wasn’t that warm, he doesn’t have a fever, so _why...?_

The gears on his mind instantly started reeling in a fast, dizzying pace. They'll be having a series of live this week, night after night, for four days straight— _in preparation for their debut single_ —but how can they do that if their vocalist, if Taka’s _precious_ voice is... is...

_No, no_ , Toru inwardly shook his head; _Taka’s health is the priority..._

_They could cancel their shows and wait until—_

He gasped when Taka suddenly lunged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him down on his level, “What the he—,”

“You’re _not_ telling this to them,” Taka hissed, and even under the blinking lights in that backstage, “Or to anyone, you understand?”

“What— _what do you mean_?” he lowly growled, his hands rose to pry off the vocalist’s clutch on his clothes, “You’re gonna sing with that condition?”

“Then what _do you want_ me to do? Dance around like a monkey?”

“What?! No!” He glanced over his shoulder and thankfully, the other three are busy talking about their upcoming baseball game, blissfully unaware of the trouble they’re into, “But your voice sounds... _off._ You should rest, Taka—“

Toru swears he saw a flash of _hurt_ over Taka’s face, but it was gone even before he can acknowledge it.

“—I can’t! I _won’t_!” he shook his head furiously, “If we stop now, we can _never_ go back, Toru-san. I don’t... I _can_ still sing,” Taka slowly let go of his shirt as his slumped form retreated, “I will sing until I can’t really sing _anymore_ , you got it? Don’t worry, this is _nothing_...” he said, coughing a few times before smiling reassuringly up at Toru, “...this will be gone tomorrow. _Trust me_.”

With those slightly helpless words, Toru thought that Taka was more like reassuring himself, than the band leader.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka’s cold went _worse_ as the days passed, _like Toru had feared_ , but it didn’t stopped the vocalist from singing like there’s nothing wrong with his body. He jumped and bounce around the small stage, singing and _singing_ as if his throat is not killing him with painful prickling. Taka would talk to the audience, smile and laugh at them as if he’s not been wheezing and using an inhaler in the darkest corner of the backstage _just a few moments ago._

And Toru just _watched_ it all.

He actually wants to smash his head to the stage or the wall or anything hard because instead of stopping the vocalist from ruining his health— _and voice_ —he just let Taka win the countless arguments they’ve been into these past few days.

“You really should stop—,”

“I _can_ still sing, Toru-san—,”

“—but it will never get better if you’ll continue—,”

“—I said I can still sing!” Taka shrieked earlier, earning confused and concerned glances from the other members. Toru instantly shut his mouth up, not wanting to put the vocalist in further distress, “J-just... just do whatever we usually do, okay? _Everything’s gonna be fine_...”

Toru wanted to say that there’s _nothing_ fine _anymore_ at the moment but decided to remain silent. He clenched his fist before roughly exhaling, ruffling the vocalist’s hair in a gentle, comforting manner before walking towards the other three to inform them of their situation.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Thank you for coming!” Taka grinned widely; his arms open wide towards the audience of that small live house at the end of their performance that night. It was the last part of their tour this week, and he can’t be more thankful for that. His throat is _killing_ him, he feels cold even though it’s too crowded in there, and he can feel his muscles going stiff as seconds passed by.

Taka had winced the entire performance whenever his voice cracked or when he panted for more air as he moved around the stage. Nevertheless, he continued singing as if there’s nothing wrong because the audience didn’t deserve a _sloppy, half-hearted_ performance. They came all the way this cramped live house to enjoy ONE OK ROCK’s music and Taka would kill himself first than to give a poor performance just because he’s not feeling that... _good._

“Please support our debut single!” he heard Toru-san said somewhere in his right side, “Thank you!”

He sighed, threw the audience a wide smile before following everyone as they shuffled into the backstage. He let out a deep breath of relief when the cool air hits his face. He could go home now and fucking rest but they’re gonna have a small celebration afterwards so...

He squinted, his eyes adjusting into the dark room. Toru-san is in a corner, squinting down onto his phone—the harsh LCD lights reveal the frowning features of the leader. Taka can hear Ryota and Alex talking animatedly somewhere about the girls in the front lines, and how Ryota is still a bumbling, _blushing virgin_ when it comes to pretty _nee-chan’s..._

_“But I’m still in high school!” Ryota cried in indignation, “That’s still reasonable!”_

_“Whatever you say, Ryota-kun~!”_

Taka can easily join the _teasing-spree_ and make the youngest blush more or something but he’s not really in the mood. He can feel his lids growing _heavier_ , his vision getting _fuzzier_ and his body is slumping forward.

_Toru-san..._

His hand _unconsciously_ reached forward, towards the oblivious leader.

_Where is Toru-san—?_

“Are you alright, Taka-chan?” Tomoya’s deep, concerned voice pulled him out of his daze. The drummer is suddenly by his side, a concerned frown marred his usually happy face as he support Taka’s body by holding to his waist, “You look like you’re gonna throw up?”

That caught everyone’s fucking attention.

If...

If Taka is in his normal self, he would definitely go _karate_ on Tomo’s head, not stopping unless his skull cracked open or until the drummer beg for him to stop but since he’s, _well, currently inebriated_ , he opted for giving the older a weak, yet still murderous, glare.

“You’re gonna be so _dead_ , Tomoya,” he muttered as everyone came rushing towards them.

“Eh?! What did I do now?!” the drummer aske din confusion.

“That’s for opening your stupid— _gah!_ ” Taka yelped when somebody snatched him from Tomoya’s hold, like a _ragdoll_ being hauled by a deranged kid, “Careful you asshole, you’re gonna tear my body in half!”

Said bastard was actually Toru-san who’s giving him a shit-ton of worried look, “What’s wrong? Are you alright— _wait, you’re not even alright in the first place_ —do you want to lie down? Do you need to go to the hospital— _are you dying—mpfggh_ —,” Toru-san’s blabbering was stopped when Taka muffled his mouth with his hand.

“Shut the fuck up, Toru-san,” he hissed, weakly trying to get out of the elder’s hold. He can hear Ryota’s nervous muttering of _Who’s gonna die?! What’s happening???!_ In the background, making Taka spit out curses in his head.

So much for keeping this to himself.

“But you’re sick,” Toru said, always stating the obvious.

“Your point?” Taka asked, “Look, calm down okay? You’re making everyone anxious!”

Taka wanted to point out that the leader shouldn’t be jumping around in fear or anxiousness because it will totally affect everyone’s mood. He should be the calmest and clear-minded in this kind of situation.

“Because we’re worried for you,” Toru-san said through clenched teeth, before sighing in defeat, “Alright... I need to go back to Osaka for tonight because my mom’s sick...”

What.

_What about me?_

_I’m dying here, Toru-san!_

...

...

WAIT.

**WTF.**

What’s with that _overly-clingy and demanding thought_ that flashed through his head just now?! Gah! Is he that desperate for someone’s attention?!

For Toru-san’s affection??!

_Oh my god!_

_I’m turning into a bitchy, clingy **girllfr** —band-mate! This isn’t good! Nah-uh!_

...

“...but I’ll drop you off your apartment first, okay?” Toru-san asked, his warm fingers ghosting over his heated cheeks—faintly, like the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings—until it finally rest on his forehead, “You’re having a fever, too...”

“ _H-harummmph_!” somebody clearly ( _and loudly_ ) cleared his throat in the background at that blatant display of...of _affection_ from the lame, expressionless guitarist.

Taka’s bubble of thoughts instantly burst at that.

“WHAT,” he blinked the haze away, “No!”

“No?”

“I mean,” he said, pushing the guitarist away, “Your mom needs you and if you’ll drop me to the apartment instead of going straight to the train station then you’ll take longer to be by her side?”

Toru-san just looked down at him with his usual unconvinced face.

_Oh, you think you can scare me with that look huh..._

He stared back at him, his gaze unwavering.

No one spoke for a long time. No one even blink and sparks can be even metaphorically seen between the two of them—even if Taka’s eyes are slowly starting to burn with unshed tears.

“As much as I love seeing you two giving _sticky_ stares at each other,” Alex said, moving his taller body between Toru and Taka, “You should really get a room or stop this nonsense. You’re making everyone on the edge!”

Toru-san didn’t back down, “But—,”

“Especially you, Toru,” Alex casted a reprimanding stare to his fellow guitarist, “You should be the one stopping us from getting into arguments, not the one starting it—,”

“Well, sorry for getting worried over our _only_ vocalis—,”

Taka winced at that. Why is he having this strange thought that Toru-san is _only_ worried about him just because he’s the band’s vocalist?

_What if I can’t sing anymore?_

_Would Toru-san still fuss over me?_

Would Toru-san still drop by his unit, eat and compliment his cooking, and just hang out during their free time?

_Would Toru-san still stay with me?_

Taka’s throat clenched painfully at that. He feels worse than he already is just moments ago. In fact, if he’s not just afraid that it’ll ruin their band’s image, he could’ve _thrown up_ at that spot.

_I don’t want to be remembered as puke-guy. Seriously._

“But he already told you that you can go,” Alex’s stern voice cut Toru-san off, “We can drop him to his unit ourselves, so just go.”

“What,” Toru-san’s eyes bulged in disbelief, “But—,”

_Oh my god—when are you going to stop—_

“That’s right, Toru-nii,” Ryota said, stepping forward albeit shaking in fear himself, “We’ll take care of Mori-chan, okay?”

_What! I’m not some kind of damsel in distress!_

“ _Ano saa,”_ Tomoya said, “While we’re arguing about this, this petty stuffs, Taka-chan here is obviously feeling worse—,”

Everyone’s eyes darted towards him again.

_Oh for the love of god Tomoya, I will fucking stab you in the neck—_

“—so let’s get things over, ne? Toru would go to his mom and we’ll drop Taka-chan off his unit in one piece, ne?”

That, unexpectedly, made everyone nod in agreement. _As expected of the words from the oldest_ , Taka thought bitterly. He just became an official member of the band but he’s already acting and commanding like he’s been with them for years.

_Makes me want to bully him more, mou, this overly-pure and kind guy pisses me off!_

Taka exhaled before standing upright and putting his hands on his waist, “You don’t have to drop me off, really—I can do that myself—“ his series of coughs tell otherwise— _damn you traitorous lungs_ —“Toru-san will go to his mom and everyone else will go with the staff celebration tonight—,”

Everyone’s mouth open as if they’re gonna disagree— _simultaneously_ —which will give him an obvious headache, so he immediately cut them off—

“—no buts. I’ll take a taxi and call everyone when I’m home,” he said with finality, “That’s not open for any more arguments _. I don’t need your pity_. Just do the things you want to do for tonight, okay?”

Even before someone can tell how selfish Taka is, how uncaring he is for everyone’s concern, Takahiro was already stalking towards the exit—but not without having a glimpse of the leader’s _displeased_ face towards his decision.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Going home and hailing a cab is easily said than done. Taka realized that in a _painful, feverish_ way the moment he got out of the live house. He realized that the place is actually far from the main road, which means that he needs to walk to reach the road and hail a taxi.

_Fan-fucking-tastic._

He wished that he didn’t just pull a _dramatic-walk-out_ like he did earlier. Maybe he’ll ask Ryota to carry him to the road? But Ryota’s too tiny and skinny that they’ll probably just _stumble and fall on their faces_ if the youngest would even try to carry him on his back.

Damn.

_And I pissed the shit out of Toru-san so he’s out of the question..._

Taka huffed and started walking with wobbly legs. _Damn this fever. Damn this chilly weather. Damn Toru-san. Damn everything and everyone._

Walking proves to be a difficult task, especially if you have _jelly legs_ and blurry vision.

Damn.

_Am I fucking dying?_

_Holy crap, I hope it wouldn’t be painful._

Taka’s eyes were almost rolling back in exhaustion when somebody— _oh god, thankfully_ —snaked an arm around his shoulder to prevent himself from falling flat on his burning face. He blearily looked up, faintly smiling towards his savior—

“Toru-san—,”

— ** _only to meet Tomoya’s smiling face._**

WHAT.

He could’ve pulled away and embarrass himself further by falling on his butt but he didn’t, instead, he just stared at the drummer’s kind face, smiling gently down at him.

_Of course._

Toru-san would not run after him. Not after the shitty stunt he pulled earlier.

That’s reasonable, _understandable._

But why is he feeling _hurt_ , like someone is strangling him and squeezing his heart painfully? Why is he feeling this sick sensation that’s totally unrelated to his fever?

“What,” he croaked, like an ugly frog, “are you doing here, idiot? Didn’t I already told you...”

“Don’t worry, Taka-chan,” Tomoya said as he started walking, moving Taka’s limp body along his every step, “I’ll just make sure that you get to the taxi safely~!”

“But—,”

“No buuuuuts~!” Tomoya said, smiling brightly as if he’s not practically dragging a boneless vocalist, “Besides, you look like you’re gonna keel over and just die earlier~”

“I...” Taka opened his mouth to say something against that, but his mind is basically turned into a mush so he just remained silent as Tomoya guided and supported him— _like how a big brother would._

Taka had never had a big brother because, well, he’s the oldest among his siblings. That’s probably why he ended up bullying his cute, adorable little brothers as they grew up—because there’s no one who’ll reprimand him for being a mean child.

Sometimes, he wonder on how is it to have an older brother— _someone like Toru-san’s brother_ —who would guide him, give him snacks, talk down to him, make him listen to songs, watch porn and read x-rated magazines together...

But now...

Tomoya is here... _like a big-brother..even though I always bully him...?_

“Tomoya’s really kind, huh...” he weakly said out loud, making the older glance at him warily before grinning, “Like an _onii-chan?”_

WHAT.

DID HE JUST SAID THAT—

Tomoya’s laughter rang into his ears—that crazy, light, and joyful laughter as _pure as the fucking sun._

“Hai, hai, I’m an _onii-chan_ to all of you bothersome children,” he nods, “Ah, you’re so cute like this, Taka-chan~!”

“Shuddup!” Taka snapped, cheeks suddenly burning up—well—more than they already are, “’m not cute! You are!”

“Ah, Toru would pay to see this ahahahahahaha~!”

Taka let out a scandalized gasp at that, his mind fogging up even more— _damn, where is the fucking taxi?! Where are we anyways?!_

“Ugh, you meanie!” he whined, slumping forward, making Tomoya lean as well to catch him.

“Hey, don’t do that—we’re gonna fall down!”

“But Toru-san’s mad at me!” he said, voice getting lower and more dramatic as he thinks of terrible scenarios where the leader doesn’t give a damn about him anymore, “ _Nee, nee~!_ Do you...” he sniffled like a bullied child.

_So much for not ruining the band’s image. I’ll probably be remembered as the snotty-guy forever._

“Hmmm?” Tomoya hummed at him.

“Do you think...that Toru-san’s mad at me, like... _for real..?”_

His question hung in the air. He patiently waits for Tomoya’s answer until his eyes couldn’t take it anymore. His body slumped further, eyes shutting close as the darkness filled his vision.

He _never_ had the answer to his question that night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The Monster Bash event actually happened in August 28, 2007, not in April.
> 
> -I've read somewhere that Toru and Taka had fought in a phone call for two long hours but I modified it because why fight on the line when they can do that in front of each other LOL.
> 
> -The part of the man raising his middle finger towards the band is legit, as taken from Ongaku to Hito, August 2014 (translated by COSMONAUT2706). This is probably one of the reasons why OOR strived to be successful, and why most of their songs in the earlier times were more like angry and trying to prove themselves.
> 
> -You can notice that Taka is somewhat desperate in this chapter, which I can understand very well. He considered himself as a failure, as a rotten child and he thinks (I'm talking about the Taka in this fic, not the real one, so please calm your shits) singing is the only thing he's good at--and it's the only reason why people would stay and hang out with him. So, if he stops singing, then what else can he offer to everyone? Tour, on the other hand, can't also be blamed because he knows the importance of their performances so he would go along with Taka's decision every damn time. I mean, if the vocalist himself had said that he can still sing even with the pain in his throat, if the vocalist himself is willing to go beyond his limits, then who is he to go against it? They're young and nervous and confused and indecisive in this age (and in this fic LOL) so let's hope that they'll learn their lesson as the story goes by, ne?
> 
> -This chapter was made as a reminder to myself that OOR didn't started big, that even with their huge enthusiasm, things didn't go with any of their expectations-and more importantly, this is to remind myself that even if I practically worships them, they are still human beings who got frustrated, disappointed, angry, hurt, hated, etc.
> 
> Soooo, thank you for reading~! Any feedback would be welcomed and appreciated :)


	44. One Way Ticket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no going back.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own OOR but you can send them to me as post-Christmas gift LOL. JK.
> 
> On with the story~!

Toru sighed the moment he went out of his mother’s room in the hospital. Thankfully it was just fatigue that made her collapse this afternoon. His father was even surprised to see him rushing and panting into the hospital room since he knows that they have a live that night. His mother apologized for making him worry and rush back to Osaka but Toru reassured them that it’s alright, that his family is still his _priority_ and that his band mates are fine with it.

_Band mates huh..._

Toru slumped onto the cold floor of the hospital roof deck. He didn’t know how he managed to get up here, perhaps his body is automatically searching for a place where he can smoke peacefully and think of... _things._

Heck, think of a _certain someone, honestly._

He admits that he had been brash earlier—the stress brought by his mother’s sudden health issues and the _immense_ worry he felt for the vocalist’s health and the band’s well-being had made him irrational, unreasonable and almost like a _bratty, moody teenager._

He really, _really_ wanted to stay and take Taka back into his unit, take care of him the way the vocalist did when he’s the one who’s sick but... _but…_

_My family should be the priority..._

Before meeting Taka, it was always his rules. Even when he’s younger, he would always rush back home whenever he needs to, whenever he feels lonely because he spends most of his childhood in the busy streets of Tokyo and in front of cameras.

Back then, his home was _wherever his family is_ —in their humble abode in Osaka—or wherever his nii-chan is.

So, he’s really confused and torn earlier because there’s this strange feeling gnawing within his chest whenever he’s thinking of _home._ Back then, he would rush back home without even hesitating, but now...

After meeting Taka...

_Urgh._

He’s having this urge to smack his skull open whenever he’s thinking of Taka suffering _alone_ and probably overthinking about petty things again. That’s why he asked Tomoya to follow Taka and make sure that he’ll take the right taxi home, but then, the drummer had called hours ago that the vocalist had collapsed due to exhaustion. Tomoya had cancelled their celebration—like any matured, wise adult wo do in that kind of situation—and took Taka into his unit. He called Toru, informed him of the vocalist’s situation, before leaving the sleeping Taka alone to rest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“He’s so cute earlier~,” Toru smiled at the drummer’s hushed voice from the phone, “You should’ve seen him, Toru. He also called me _onii-chan_!”

“WHAT.”

“And he’s...he’s asking if you’re mad at him, you know?” Tomoya said, his voice suddenly sobering up, “Go to him as soon as your back, okay? When are you gonna go back anyways?”

Toru was stunned speechless for a moment before he remember to answer, “Probably two days from now...I don’t know... Just... _Just_...” Toru groaned, his face burying into his open, calloused palm.

He’s confused. And frustrated. But above all, he’s worried—worried for the man that probably spends all the months they’ve been together in a band on worrying about everyone.

_Take care of him. Please take good care of him._

The drummer probably got whatever he wanted to say because he just hummed thoughtfully, “Okay. We’ll take care of Takahiro in your place, ne? Tell your mom to get better, ne?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That actually _frustrates_ Toru more than it calms his mind. He’s the _one_ who’s supposed to be there, dammit! But he had to leave, his family needs him, and let’s not forget the painful part when Taka had pushed him away...

But _what if_ Taka is crying alone right now?

_I shouldn’t have believed him._

He’s an _attention-seeker_ , constantly looking for someone’s company, relishing when everyone fawned upon him so being alone in his terrible fever...

_God-fucking-dammit._

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was almost dawn when Takahiro woke up.

How did he know that it’s almost dawn? Probably because he opened his eyes, got greeted by the blazing red-digits of his alarm clock, telling him that it’s already five _something_ in the morning. He groaned, shutting his eyes closed again, thinking why he even bothered to wake up in the first place.

The sun’s soft light is filtering through the curtains, landing on his sheets. The birds chirping outside sounds like someone is writing on a chalkboard with a _fucking_ nail, grating his eardrums and giving him this massive headache this early in the morning.

Wait.

_How did I even managed to get my ass in my unit?_

Taka dug into his head for reasons but when he found none, he just stared at his ceiling—squinting as he desperately tried to remember the events last night. Everything was so fuzzy—their performance, Taka’s countless croaking and coughing, everyone’s voice arguing over something...

Arguing—

_Toru-san!_

He instantly sat up, his eyes shutting as he felt a strong nausea, making him want to puke and cough and cry all the same time but—

_Toru-san! Toru-san is mad at me!_

He heaved, breathing became a difficult task as his mind finally decided to make him remember all the shits he had done last night. The leader’s argument about his health, everyone’s panicked look on their faces, Toru-san’s displeased features...

_“Oh, shit. I totally fucked up.”_

—is what Taka would say out loud, with as much passion as he can if his voice-box actually produced any sound, but all came out was—

“Oh –it—fu—p.”

What.

What was he even trying to say in the first place? Is that even Japanese? _Sounds like indecipherable French even to him, dammit!_

And what was more shocking than his sudden spouting of non-sense gibberish is that—

_Where the fuck is my voice?!_

He tried speaking again, but aside from small words and groans and this crazy pain his throat—like someone just made him swallow a shit-ton of shuriken— _nothing really happened._

Taka’s eyes widened the size of the universe as he came into a horrifying conclusion.

_How the fuck am I gonna sing like this?!_

_Heck, how can I even sing without a fucking voice, dammit?!_

He started hyperventilating as his mind works a mile per second. He knows that it’s bad to overthink of such things, of thinking so lowly of himself, as Toru-san had always reminded him, but... _but this is different!_

_Losing my precious voice is totally different!_

He _wouldn’t be able_ to sing anymore!

A vocalist without a voice is _not needed._

A band without a vocalist would _collapse._

Everyone would leave him, even Toru-san who promised to be always by his side, if he lost his voice because— _because that’s the only thing I’m good at, right?_

Taka’s hands, arms and his whole body shook in fear and anxiousness as images of his displeased father and crying mother flooded his scared mind. He had made _so much_ disappointments in his life, but this time, his parents would _definitely_ disown him—again.

_I’m not even sure if someone can double-disown you or something but damn—_

He wouldn’t be able to see them again. Hiro and Tomo, too. They would think that he’s a lame older-brother— _good for nothing, rotten-spoiled child._ Someone who can’t even do a single thing right.

And _Toru-san..._

The pure white sheets get crumpled under Taka’s tight clutch. His fists are turning white, a sheer contrast to his burning red face as fat, glob of tears relentlessly rolled down his flaming cheeks.

Toru-san would blame him, chastised him for not obeying the leader’s words a few nights ago. Then he would blandly smile, that kind of _gentle smile_ as if Taka had done nothing wrong—his usual smile, but obviously _lacking of its usual warmth and affection._

Why would he care for someone like Taka _anyways?_

Why would the magnificent, kind, gentle, and strong leader care for a _broken, moody, bitchy and voice-less_ Taka anyways?

...

_God, why does that fucking hurts?!_

Was that because he realized that Toru-san is only _tolerating_ existence—caring and looking out for him—because of his precious voice? Because he’s desperate enough to persuade a shitty person like Taka to join his band?

Or...

Or was it because he’s afraid that Toru-san would _really_ leave him _, alone and broken_ after making him enjoy everything life had to offer until now? Was it because he’s scared to be all by himself again, crying in the bathroom, wishing that his bland life would just fucking end already?

...

Taka had never hated this empty bed in his unit this passionately before. Sometimes, Toru-san would just sleep on it, even if Taka’s also on it, and that annoys him to the core. But right now...

...he’s alone and is totally a _mess..._

_Toru-san..._

When did he felt this _empty_ whenever Toru-san is not beside him?

_Toru-san you idiot..._

It was _frightening_ how he’d easily became used to— _maybe even dependent_ —on the comfort that Toru-san had brought into his life. Takahiro was used being the _black sheep, the freak, the odd one_ wherever he went to, but when he met Toru-san...

It became _different._

 _He_ became different.

He gets _better_ , aims _higher,_ and makes him actually enjoy life. Whenever he’s with Toru-san, everything becomes even _greater_. Life gets _better and brighter._

Toru-san gave - _forced_ \- his heart a reason to keep beating.

_Toru-san..._

But, what if... what if Toru-san _really_ hates him right now... Taka wanted to bang his head onto the nearest wall, but he’s too weak to even move from his spot, to prevent these nasty images from coming into his mind.

Toru-san, their precious leader— _the calm, always assertive and staring-off-to-nothing yet gentle and caring Toru-san_ —who’s always, _always_ at Taka’s side. He looks tensed and he won’t even...he won’t even look at Takahiro, like his avoiding him like the fucking _Black Death_ or for other goddamned reason, while looking disgusted, pained— _hurt._

Is it... Was it his really his fault...?

Taka knows that he’s starting to imagine things, starting to have these fever-induced delusions but he can’t prevent himself from reacting, _badly,_ at them. He took a deep breath and keeps it squeezed inside his lungs to stop crying, for god’s sake, like a _wuss._ His hands are trembling too much, his lips quivering and his heart aching so much that he fears he’ll just die of heart attack or something.

“To...—an..” he whimpered the man’s name.

He... he needs to apologize somehow _, beg_ for Toru-san’s forgiveness, hope for his kind-heartedness... or just do something, _anything!_

_But where is Toru-san?_

Where was he when Taka _needs him the most, dammit?!_

“Toru— _a_ n...” Taka mumbled, his tears flowing like waterfalls, “Toru- _sa_ —,” he hiccupped, pulling his knees towards his chest and hugged them for some warmth—to protect himself from the _loneliness,_ from the _sadness,_ from the motherfucking _coldness_ of this world.

_Toru-san._

_Toru-san._

“Toru-san!” he cried, totally not caring about his neighbours hearing childish wails and sobs from his unit. _Fuck them. They can all go to hell for all I care!_

**Blagh!**

Taka shrieked in surprise when the door to his room suddenly flung open, revealing an exhausted and panting Toru-san. Taka should be asking _why the fuck_ is this guitarist barging into his unit for but his mind is too fogged up with fever and too stressed at his self-destructing thoughts that all he managed to do was... _cry harder._

_Oh my fucking god, how lame is that?!_

Taka shrieked inwardly in embarrassment because why did he cried when the person he’s totally longing for is right here in his unit, looking _horrified and worried, and mad_ —all the same time, _how the fuck can you do that, Toru-san_ —pulling his shoes off and stumbling towards the bed where Taka is curling up in distress.

_Fuck._

_I’m probably losing my shit now. Why is Toru-san here anyway? Aren’t he supposed to be Osaka, right now? How about his mom? Is she okay? How did he even managed to get back—the travel through train takes hours! Am I hallucinating? Am I dying—_

His face was then roughly grabbed by the guitarist, the warmth of his hands is like a comforting blanket that instantly envelopes Taka’s freezing form. Calloused hands roamed his face, touching, _feeling_ his feverish skin, leaving soft, strange tingles under Taka’s skin.

“Taka, _Taka,”_   Toru-san chanted his name like a prayer as he forced him to look up at the guitarist’s pained face, “ _Takahiro_.”

“T-to—,” his voice decided to show-off his sudden disappearance, making Taka’s eyes to tear up more while making Toru-san’s eyes grow in horror, _“—s—an_ ,”

“S’rry—,“

_Sorry._

“’M so—sr—y...”

_I’m so sorry._

“No-ha-t...ning...y-you...”

_For not listening to you._

He wanted to apologize, bow deep to this man but _sadly_ , he can’t say those properly so he just wailed and sobbed like the _pathetic_ person he is. Fortunately, Toru-san had developed this _wonderful ability_ to understand whatever gibberish Taka is blabbering about because he nodded his head, wiping his tear-streaked face with his thumbs.

“Shhh _, shhh_ , it’s alright, Taka—,”

 _What. Nothing’s alright, you dumb fuck._ He shook his head in denial, making Toru-san frown in return.

“No, no, it’s _really_ alright,” he said, “I’m sorry okay? I’m so sorry for leaving you alone like this—,”

_No, you don’t understand, Toru-san._

“—You told me it’s alright to leave—,”

_But it really is!_

“—and I’m a dumb fool to believe you,” Toru said, embracing Taka as if they hadn’t see each other for a _thousand years_. He rested his chin over Taka’s sweat-damped hair as he rubbed his back in a caressing, _comforting_ manner, “Gomen ne? I somehow know that this would happen and yet...and yet I didn’t do anything to stop you from ruining your health—,”

“No!” Taka pushed the man away, shaking his head furiously, “Ma—ay fault! ‘m stu—id agh!”

“No, _no,_ you’re not stupid, how many times do I have to tell you that you’re not?!” Toru snapped making Taka’s eyes grow wide...before being glazed with tears again.

_The hell?! Why am I gonna cry again?! Is this my only role in this fucking story? To cry like a wimpy-damsel in distress?!_

“It’s my fault...I’m the leader and I should’ve stopped you,” he said before leaning down, “I’m your friend so I should’ve stopped you...look what my stupidity brought you, _hmmm?_ You’ve been crying before I came here, right? You’re eyes are all puffy and red, Taka...”

Taka wanted to slap the shit out of Toru-san’s annoyingly handsome face. Can’t he even read the mood?!

“...you’re thinking of stupid things again, right? Did you have a nightmare again?” he said in such a gentle tone that makes Taka want to sleep while listening to it, non-stop, “I’m sorry for not being here when you woke up...”

What...

Why is Toru-san telling him these things...?

Why is he apologizing when Taka is _the one_ at fault?

“N-not...mad...a—ah—t...m’?” he softly asked, looking up at those tired, dark eyes. Toru-san’s brows knitted in confusion so he felt obligated to explain stuffs even though he sounds like a broken CD player, “Yo—know, los—ng mah voi—hic!—ce? Yo—still...ill... _want_ me—?”

Toru-san’s heavily lidded eyes grew wide at that.

_Gah! Why does it sounds so wrong?!!!_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Toru was...left quite speechless for a moment or two upon realizing what Taka is saying with his broken voice.

Did he...

_Is he thinking that I’m gonna leave him just because he lost his voice to a fucking cold?!_

God—how did he even came up with those scenarios in the first place? Toru wanted to punch Taka for being and over thinker again, then he wanted to punch himself for coming so late that the vocalist had started having those _weird, soul-crushing_ thoughts.

_That’s why he’s crying earlier?!_

Goddammit, Toru, look at what you’ve done!

“Of course, I’d _still_ want you!” Toru-san roared, grabbing the vocalist’s shoulder and roughly shook Taka’s frame, making his head lolled back and front, “we’ll still want you, dammit!”

Taka whimpered, probably getting more dizzy because of the unexpected and _forced_ head bangs so Toru immediately let go of his shoulder to properly hug the vocalist. He can feel Taka’s shivering form—probably of cold or fear or just plainly because he’s still crying those pretty eyes out—it doesn’t matter, _nothing mattered anymore._

No one _else_ mattered anymore.

“You’re such an idiot, Takahiro,” Toru said, squeezing the vocalist’s soft body tighter when he made Taka made an indignant whine— _probably because of the “idiot” comment_ —so he decided to clear that up.

“I won’t leave you for something _like that_ ,” he said, not promising that the others would do the same. Taka doesn’t need reassurance from others because he’d long lost it; what’s important is that Toru would never, _ever leave_ —even if Taka pretends that it’s okay to leave .

“G-gah—,”

He falls onto the bed, dragging Taka’s body along with him as they lie, side by side, facing each other. He then pulled the vocalist closer, until his face is flushed onto Toru’s chest, ignoring Taka’s whimpers of complains and not caring if Taka’s tears would wet his clothes.

He ran his hands onto the vocalist’s back, relishing at the intense warmth emanating from the smaller body beside him— _wondering why this seems familiar_ —him hugging Taka like this, on a single bed—when they haven’t slept on the same bed since the night Taka joined their band.

_Oh, wait. We’ve shared a bed when I’m sick, right?!_

“T-toru—sa-ah-an—,” the vocalist closed his eyes as his hands ran through his hair, massaging his scalp in a soothing manner. Taka looks tired, _helpless,_ desperate yet still manage to look like a _cute, huffing_ Pokemon.

 “You really are a _fool_ , Taka,” he whispered, his voice low but steady, “I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll be here when you have bad dreams. I’ll be here when you’re moody, and commanding us like the boss. I’ll be here when you’re cursing everyone, flipping everyone or bullying Tomoya to _death_. I’ll be here when you’re angry or lonely or sad or hungry or heart-broken or _horny_ —,” Toru felt a weak punch to his stomach at that— “or _sick or healthy_ , **_with or without_** your voice.”

A moment ago, Taka is almost putting up a futile attempt to get away from Toru’s embrace and then suddenly his arms are snaking out, hugging Toru’s neck tightly as if he’s afraid that someone would snatch the guitarist _away from him._

“Toru—san,” he cried and cried, holding and clutching at Toru as if his life depended on it, cried until there’s nothing more to cry out, “Toru-saaan...”

Toru did the same thing, arms encircling the small body as if to protect him from everyone _, from everything_. He couldn’t see anything wrong with their compromising situation, because that’s a normal thing between close friends right?

_Hugging each other on a single bed, right?_

Besides, they’re considered close friends because Taka wouldn’t do this kind of stuffs with his other, normal, friends, right?

 _I hope not because I will surely throw a hissy fit,_ Toru thought bitterly. Taka sighed contently as he nuzzled his chest, his hold gradually weakening as sleep obviously starts to claim him.

“Thanks...” he cutely mumbled. Toru sighed, thinking that everything is finally getting better, well, not until Taka did the unthinkable making his body react badly.

Taka’s eyes fluttered open— _wide and unsure and delicate and glassy from all the unshed tears_ —his eyelashes batting shyly on his flushed cheeks, like a fleeting butterfly and god—just by staring at those eyes, those tear-streaked face, those parted, pouty lips, Toru can feel something getting _hard._

 _Tears look quite good on Taka_ , Toru’s dirty mind supplied.

WHAT.

_What was that?!_

He fought against the natural need to look down to his pants because that would just make things painfully obvious. He inched his lower _uhm_ half backwards to avoid getting humiliated in front of the vocalist.

He was kinda _glad_ that Taka had finally calmed down and zoomed off to La-la land because he would surely never let him off this humiliating situation.

_What to do? Should I go to the bathroom? But that might wake Taka up..._

_And why am I gonna go to the bathroom anyway? To what? Take a cold, cold, cold shower or...?_

_..._

_..._

_Gah?!!!!_

Toru shut his eyes off, imagining zombies and other gore stuff to will his _uhm._..hard on away. Maybe he should just sleep. He’s exhausted from his round-trip anyways. That’ll probably solve all of his problems, right?

_Right._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“R-reall...y...Toru—san?” the guitarist instantly went rigid when Taka’s sleep-laced voice broke the tensed silence of the room, “You’re...hav...in...hard...o...righ-ah-t...ow...?”

_Oh for fuck’s fucking fucked sake!_

Toru made an indignant huffed, willing his voice to remain as cam as possible, “It’s just from the _adrenaline rush._ You know, running here and all. Just don’t mind it and sleep,” then with a slower, gentler voice, he leaned downwards, watching as an unconvinced smile formed on the vocalist’s face—

Damn, why can Taka look annoying and smug and totally adorable without even opening his goddamned eyes?!

—“I’ll be here when you wake up, ne?”

“S—re...sure...” Taka mumbled before finally, _thankfully_ , really going to sleep.

Toru sighed, praying to all the _kami_ he knows, that Taka won’t remember this part when he wakes up. Or else, Toru would definitely die of _mortification._

 

 

* * *

 

END. 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD WHAT A LAME-ASS ENDING. I DON'T EVEN. FUCKING HELL.
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING: Long ass appreciation post (You don’t have to read this, just know that I’M FUCKING GRATEFUL THAT YOU MANAGED TO READ THIS CHAPTER. THANK YOU VERY MUUUUCH~!)
> 
> Fucking finally!
> 
> It took more than a hundred thousand words, more than forty chapters and almost half a year to finish this story—and I’m glad that you all stayed long enough for this.
> 
> I’ve been listening to ONE OK ROCK since they released Clock Strikes but I can’t be considered as a fan because I just listened to them, along with various Jpop and JRock artists I know from watching countless animes. I’ve only known Taka because I was so fascinated with his voice. I listened to their songs—et cetera, all mine, pierce, my sweet baby, living dolls, karasu (YokoArena version), acoustic of the beginning—mostly of their slow songs. I didn’t watched any of their MV’s because I found it weird looking at their faces while singing—I grow to love them for their music, not for their appearances because for some weird reasons, I know shit about the other members.
> 
> This year, I discovered Ryota because apparently one of OOR’s members has gotten married to Avril’s sister. I knew Tomoya because I’ve seen the crack videos showing how Taka bullied him (I was actually quite surprise to see that Taka had cut his hair short, much different to his Zankyou Reference look [I’ve watched clips of Karasu and et cetera played in this concert, yeah]) and him getting married. And for some fucked up reason, I didn’t know anything about Toru.
> 
>  
> 
> **Seriously.**
> 
>  
> 
> So, when I was bored in our office because I just graduated and finally had to work full-time, I scrolled through Random One Ok Rockness’ page and found the video that would fucking **change my life forever**. It was the 20/20 performance, goddammit.
> 
> I was watching it with my jaws hanging open because _matte, matte, matte_ —who is this fucking handsome guys who’s basically flirting with Taka on stage?! Does ONE OK ROCK really have a member like him?! How come that I didn’t know about him, like, at all?!
> 
> And then, I began stalking like crazy.
> 
> I’ve searched for all their infos and interviews and TV appearances and discovered that this ikemen is Yamashita Toru and that the toruka-ship, somehow, exists. I’ve began reading fanfics—found a bunch of good ones in this site and in live-journal. I even made an instagram account just to follow them and the other OORers. And then somewhere behind my mind, I thought that I should—definitely should—write one because I’m craving for something longer. I’ve come to respect and became more amazed by these people because of all the shits they went through—I know that everyone has their own story, it’s just that I’ve been inspired with their’s so please forgive me being biased and all—and I want to capture all those moments in a story.
> 
> I thought that I wasn’t writing for the comments, for the hits, kudos and all—I’m writing because I had to unleash my feelings, my emotions, my monster within my chest. But as I wrote along, I’ve discovered how nice it is to know that there’s someone who appreciates, that there someone who’s patiently waiting for updates, and that there’s someone who motivates me and cheer me up with words of encouragement.
> 
> I’m really, really thankful for that.
> 
> I’m glad that I’ve written this story.
> 
> I’m glad that I’ve met all of you.
> 
> I don’t want to end this part but I’m afraid that Taka and Toru would get married to someone else first before I finished this. It’s not that I’m against that—their happiness is all that matters anyway—but knowing that they still hadn’t tied the knot with other person just SPARKS our imagination, ne? There’s nothing wrong with getting ideas and inspiration from that, right?
> 
> Besides, the summary of this story basically revolves round their high-school life, ne? In the next part, we would be witnessing how they grew up from releasing their debut single until (hopefully) the Around the World Shonen era. And the ratings might go up because Toru and Taka would definitely start experimenting with their newly-developed shits or what-so-ever.
> 
> So until then, please bear with me.
> 
> And thank you for always waiting for the updates even if there are lame-ass ones.  
> I thank you for the bottom of my heart!
> 
> Goodbye for now, but see you on the next instalment! Your comments always, ALWAYS made me happy these past few months and I would love to hear more from you!
> 
>  
> 
> Happy New Year to everyone~!
> 
>  
> 
> -TORUKAisJUSTICE
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I'll be back in the second week of January. Hopefully XD.


	45. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter for three reasons.
> 
> 1\. I missed updating this fic. So plain and simple gaaaaaaah.  
> 2\. The shit that could change your life and future is probably just around the corner. Maybe you had found it or met them already, but you didn’t notice, but maybe sooner or later, you’ll realized that and tell yourself that “Ah, I’m glad that I didn’t gave up back then~!”  
> 3\. Taka has always, always, ALWAYS been aiming to go in the Western music scene. From the first songs that encompassed his younger years, to their inspirations, to his favorite music and bands and singers—his, and Toru’s, aim has always been the Western world. It might sound harsh but that’s the reality and people tend to forget that, disregarding the fact that when this band was started, they has been aiming for the dream of performing their music in the West right from the very beginning. Remember the time that Taka and Toru bought tickets just because they wanted to go and play at New York? Remember the time that Toru initiated the shit to expand overseas? Yes? No? Okay.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, let’s have this crappy short of a prologue but written in place of epilogue chapter, ne? Please take note, that this happens before Toru had eevn formed the band, I think it's on the chapter when the nameless band was formed. Chapter 13, I think. You can read that before reading this.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: OOR is not, and will never be, mine. All mistakes, typos and errors, however, are mine.

The sky is murky, as 17-year-old Takahiro looked up at the Tokyo skyline. It was finally Autumn, just a few more months and it will be the winter break again. The avenue and streets of the capital city would be filled with festivities, people roaming around with their loved ones as they bask in the Holiday seasons.

But he didn't give a fuck about that, _honestly._

He just wants the year to get over, start a new one and finish the goddamned high school by March. He's tired of it, _mou_ , trying to pretend that he's interested in learning when all he had ever wanted is to skip his classes—Math and English and all the other shits, even the Japanese ones because _come on_ , _why would I even need to learn about velocity and distance?! I just want a diploma not to be a fucking space engineer, mou!_

His grades were not so great too and despite not being able to see him for a long time now, Taka is sure that his father would definitely frown down upon seeing his grades. But he was _used_ to that, he was used being regarded as the ultimate disgrace to their family, of being the reason why the Mori household collapsed. He was so fucking tired of being accused of riding the tail coats of his parents so he went out.

_"Get out!"_

He did.

And _never_ came back.

 _It's better like this_ , he thought as his feet aimlessly brought him to the busy street of Shibuya. He always spent his free time here. And by _“free time,”_ he means the short expanse of hours between his class and his part time job at a restaurant. The job sucks and barely supports his living but damn if he would just drop it. He needed something to _distract_ him from his monotonous life, and that routine—getting dressed in shabby clothes, faking smiles as he talked to customers and cleaning up after their mess for hours until it's time to go—no matter how plain and boring it sounds, is the only thing that grounded him into _reality._

 _That_ and the cover band he's been with since his senior year in high school. It's not...really _that great_ and they have few songs but it's the closest grip.to his dreams that Taka could hold on to, at the moment. They're just an acoustic band, focusing on keyboards and some guitars and vocals. Taka is the newest recruit, well, they just allowed him in because they're desperately trying to search for a vocalist. Taka, seeing that no one seems to realize who he was, jumped for the opportunity and learned how to sing covers of foreign songs.

 _It was difficult as hell,_ his tongue almost twisting and falling off his mouth—especially between L and R's— _damn those letters, making my head hurts like fuck_. He always forgets lyrics too but everyone paid no attention on it. As if they will, Taka huffed as he shoved his hands into the pocket of his slacks, they still need me until the first live, remember?

It might be harsh but that's the reality. Taka doesn’t have any sense of attachment with this band, nor the strong desire to continue performing and playing with them.in the far future.

_Future, huh?_

How can he look forward to that when he _can't even look up_ whenever he's singing on stage?

How can he dream far and big when all he ever wanted is to rot in this murky world he's been living?

_Is he even alive?_

Is his heart even beating in the first place?

When was the last time he felt such excitement, the rush of adrenaline surging through his veins? When was the last time he had smiled so bright, grinned so wide that his cheeks almost _hurt?_ When was the last time he sang with so much passion, his voice getting rough and raw with every set done?

When was the last time he felt so _alive...?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Taka squinted his almond shaped eyes, as he glared at the Music Shop under his long fringes. It has been ages since he had his last haircut and he must be looking like a fluffy dog right now. It's a miracle that the school even allowed him with that style, too. He shuffled inside, Chester’s strong voice greeted him as a Linkin Park’s song blasted from the speakers.

He sighed, feeling like he’s in a damn _heaven._

This is one of his favorite place in the city. A place where he could listen and discover new songs. He wonders if he could sing as good as Chester-san in the future? Sing in front of a huge crowd, sing the songs that will be known _across the world_ , despite the language barriers? He wonders if he could step onto foreign soil and perform in _different stages_ in the future? He wonders if he could release albums after albums, fill _arenas and vast places_ for concerts? He wonders if he could meet Chester-san, make a song with him, and ask him things about making great music that could traverse boundaries.

_Ii na…_

Taka glanced at the wide arrays of CDs and EPs on display. _That would be nice, alright_ , but with his current situation, it’s just like dreaming on getting on the moon. It’s next to impossible, _mou._

How can he even release song when what they’ve been doing all these months were just shitty covers of Western songs? How can he even fill arenas and domes when they still haven’t even had their first one man live? Will they even have it? When? _After 10 fucking years?_

_I hope no because I’m surely dead by then._

He sighed and put back the CD case on the shelf. This isn’t working. With his predicament, and his lack of motivation, Taka would never reach those _ambitions_ in the next five or ten or even 50 years. But what can he do? It’s not like he could just wake up one day feeling so damn enthusiastic and hyper as fuck! It’s not like he could just _poop out_ songs and music! It’s not like he could just…find something that would make his mind reel in excitement, make his blood thrum in adrenaline, make his entire being sing for the unknown future.

It’s hard to find the motivation that could make those dreams come true…

He sighed, for _god-knows-how-many-times already_ that afternoon before he trudged towards the exit of the shop. He was so busy wallowing in self-despair that he failed to notice the two teens entering the establishment and bumping—

_Fuck!_

“Ah, _gomen_ —,”

Taka instantly went glaring at the taller teen. If looks could kill, that asshole with huge, bored eyes and a pale skin would just _combust to death_ right there and then. But it doesn’t, so Taka just huffed before he ducked and hurried out. The boy looks scary as fuck, and even if Taka could glare him to heal and back, he still doesn’t want to get a beating from a…a bored, _Gachapin-look alike_ teen.

The crisp, bitter air smacked on his face upon leaving the Music Shop. He sighed, looking up at the bleak sky.

Those dreams would stay as dreams if he won’t do anything about it…

He needs to find that motivation…that _reason_ …

Taka shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he trudged towards the direction of his part-time job, the countless possibilities of a future flashing and fading from his mind. It was confusing, exciting, dreading, and mystifying all at the same time.

But at this rate…

If Taka won’t search for it, if Taka won’t make it, if Taka won’t _change_ then…

Then…

_If I remained like this...I would just be a dreamer for the rest of my life, huh...?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

A few weeks after that, on one cold night, in the dark, cramped live house where their shitty cover band held their first live, Morita Takahiro met the man who would have changed his life— _forever._

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_And everything finally begins._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time flies soooo fast and look at that, it’s already been a year since I uploaded the first chapter of Reason to Keep my Heart Beating! A lot of things happened since then, I’ve met a lot of people—readers, writers, bloggers, and some random persons I stalked—during the course of this year. It was fun! Exchanging stuffs like culture and opinions and giving out reasons to smile every time has always been fun. A lot of things happened in the fandom too and about ONE OK ROCK themselves since I first discovered them.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, we have on-going translations for this in Russian (https://ficbook.net/readfic/5928341) and in Spanish (https://www.wattpad.com/story/148492645-reason-to-keep-my-heart-beating-%E2%80%A2toruka%E2%80%A2). My Spanish is still almost non-existent (I bombed it once, as well as Italian), my Japanese is getting better because of the lovely people who were doing translations from random posts I saw. I can also now cuss in Portuguese goddammit—
> 
> Let me just use this opportunity to thank everyone who had read this, and all my other works in the past year. Maybe one of you could also write more ToruKa fics in the future? It will take a lot of guts and shits but gaaah I think it will be worth it in the end. Posting the first work is always the hardest shit, trust me. Did I ever mentioned that I almost punched the monitor when I uploaded Kimi wo Aishitai because I was so embarrassed? But I was so high in adrenaline back then and I gotta let them out and those lovely people gave comments and ahhhh—
> 
> Anyways.
> 
> What was I saying again?
> 
> Oh, right. I was thanking everyone coz lol reading this shit for a year is taxing. I reread my works ever now and then (yes and I’m cringing at my ever-present typos but I’m too lazy to change them. Maybe it will just be a proof that I’m learning better as time goes by—), then I reread your comments and I always feel _“gaaaaah these people are so nice dammit I gotta smash my face on the table coz it’s burning like fuck. How can they even managed to wait and read this shit for a year now.”_
> 
> So for being patient and kind and loving and supportive and for spoiling me for a year, thank you so, so much! You have given me so much in these past 12 months. ToruKa, OOR and you all have saved me from all those shitty times. Thank you. _Maraming Salamat. Arigato. Obrigada. Spasibo. Gracias. Merci. Terima kasih. Xie Xie._ Lalalalalulululu. Yeah. Please forgive me if I just bombed your language.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, please indulge me _one last time_ : What was your memorable experience while reading Reason/DREAMERS?


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